Flesh and Blood
by PaleLittleGirl
Summary: Her eyes filled with tears as she threw herself onto his bed, into his arms. Harry sighed as he held her, and wondered why he felt so dirty. Warnings: Language, Sexual Situations. AU. Harry OC. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Damn.

A/N: Wow, I finally finished the first chapter for this! It's taken a really long time. Readers of another story of mine may have noticed that I like the name Adrian. Anyway, this story is a bit of a departure from others I've written, but I really like it. It's AU, obviously, and reviews are very appreciated.

**Lost Prophecy- Ch. 1 - Flesh and Blood **

Harry Potter was not a happy boy.

Everyone else in #12, Grimmauld Place were slumbering peacefully, but he was lying awake, mentally berading himself. On top of all the usual problems he had todeal with, such as worries about school and friends, he had to deal with much more. The Dark Lord was still at large, and it was up to The Boy Who Lived to stop the great evil of the century. On top of that, there was a much more immediate, a much more _destructive _problem at hand. A problem that the raven haired boy would only acknowledge in the dead of night, when he was certain he was completly alone.

He was in love. This might not seem out of the ordinary, especially for someone of his age. But the girl who had his affections was not, under any circumstances,an appropriate consort. It was his sister_. He was in love with his own sister. _

Harry let out a frustrated sigh and beat his pillow with a clenched fist. It was too hot, everything was too damn hot. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat that clung to his pale skin uncomfortably. He often lay like this, night after night, trying to convince himself that his feelings of lust for his own flesh and blood was just him trying to make up for the twelve years that he had lived without her. That was all...he was just trying unconsiously compensate for lost time.

_'Twelve years,' _mused Harry to himself in the darkness of his bedroom. How had he survived that long without her? When Dumbledore had first sat him down in his office and informed the boy that he had a living relative, a younger, secret sister, Harry's feelings had initially been somewhat mixed. Sure, having a surviving family member was wonderful, but would he be able to connect with her? To a twelve year old, the age difference of two years may as well have been two decades. But he needn't have worried. The moment he had laid eyes on her, he knew he loved her. There was an immediate connection between them, a connection that would only strenghthen with time.

_**Flashback**_

"I really don't want to do this," Harry said nervously to himself. He picked agitatedly at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt as he stood on the front lawn of a house that his Headmaster had just entered. In just a few moments he would meet her for the first time. It was strange just thinking about it.

"Why are you telling me now?" he had asked. Dumbledore had smiled patiently as he answered.

"Harry, your parents knew that they were in danger, though they did not know _why_. To better protect you, they placed your sister in my care, and made arrangments to give you to me when they were sure it was safe. Before they could do that, Voldemort murdered them and tried to murder you, and I decided the safest course of action was to place you in your relative's care."

Harry's lips parted to interupt. Dumbledore raised his hand to silence him.

" I know what you are going to ask, Mr. Potter. Why didn't I give them your sister, as well? It was beyond my ability at the time to place a magical protection on both of you, and since you were the one in the most jeopardy, I decided you were the priority. So I placed her with a lovely Muggle family and waited for the day she would come of the age to attend Hogwarts. And that day," finished the Headmaster with a serene smile, " is today. Any questions?"

Questions? Of course Harry had questions! Even to his twelve year old mind, that story had gaping holes in it. But he was overwhelmed with the new information, and he could barely form a coherent question before it flitted away in a confused haze. Later, Harry realized the old man must have Confunded him. Before he could inquire the Headmaster's motives further, the man looked up with a satisfied look.

"Ah, here she is. Be nice, Mr. Potter."

Before them was a young man who couldn't have been more than twenty five, leading a little girl by the hand gently towards them. She looked almost exactly like Harry did- jet black hair she kept long and unstyled, pale skin and startling green eyes. The only differences between them were her eyes: intead of emerald green, hers were the color of seafoam, a light blue-green. The Boy Who Lived swallowed as nervous beads of sweat began to form on his body.

The pair drew closer and Dumbledore rose his hand in greeting. Harry wiped his hands nervously on his jeans. He wasn't ready for this. Not at all.

"Ah, Roger. And Adriana! How are you today?"

"Fine, thank you, Albus. Adriana, aren't you going to be polite and answer him?"

The girl said nothing and stared at Harry curiously.

It was then that he knew.

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, he knew.

Dumbledore nudged him and he stumbled forward awkwardly.

"H-hi," he stammered shyly. "I'm, uh, Harry. Harry Potter."

His sister smiled a smile that lit up her entire face. "Hi," she whispered. "I'm Adriana. It's nice to meet you."

**End Flashback**

Harry smiled to himself in the darkness of his room. They had both been so nervous, but they needn't have been. Before the day was over, Roger and Dumbledore had noted amusedly that the pair were inseperable.

"Harry?"

The Boy Who Lived sat up in his bed and looked at his door.

"Adriana? What's wrong?" His door opened slowly and his sister entered. Harry swallowed as every drop of moisture left his mouth, and wished he was wearing something besides his pajama bottoms. She had been in his room for perhaps a second and he already could not keep his eyes off of her. She had changed a lot during the five years since they met. Gone was the androgynous little girl figure- she was really developing into a woman. A woman with long legs, perfect breasts...

_'Stop it,' _thought Harry angrily. _'What is wrong with you?'_

"Did I wake you?" she asked quietly, interupting his lewd thoughts.

Harry shook his head. "No, not at all. What's wrong, Adriana? Did you...have another dream?"

Her eyes filled with tears as she threw herself onto his bed, into his arms. Harry sighed as he held her, and wondered why he felt so dirty.

"It's alright," he whispered soothingly, kissing her tenderly on the forehead. "Tell me all about it."

End Chapter 1.

A/N: Reviews, as always, are very appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N-Yay! I finished Chapter 2, finally. Constructive criticism is appreciated, as always.

_**Chapter 2- Big Brother**_

Adriana flung her arms around Harry, burying her face in his naked chest.

"I wish they would stop," she whispered, her words slightly muffled. "Sometimes I think I can't take it anymore, you know?"

Harry nodded absently as he stroked her hair. "I know," he said quietly, losing himself in a memory he wished desperately was a dream.

She had been captured by the Dark Lord the night he had tried to save Sirius. She had wanted to go with him, but Harry had firmly put his foot down, wanting her to stay at the school, where it was safe. She was not on to not give up, however, and he eventually gave in. It turned out that Voldemort had more plans for the evening- after murdering his godfather, Bellatrix grabbed his sister and Disapparated.

For seven days, she had not returned. For that week, Harry barely ate and never slept. He blamed himself for her kidnapping, and a growing sense of dread began to gnaw at him at the days went on. He bagan to believe that she had been killed by Voldemort, and whenever he allowed himself to think of that, it seemed like his very soul had frozen over. It was then that he realized completely how he felt. Everyone had halfheartedly tried to comfort him, but he could see through their mournful eyes. They believed she had been killed, and were just waiting for her body to be discovered one day.

And then, at the end of those awful seven days, something wonderful happened: she had come back. She was found at the front of the Burrow, wondering aimlessly, half naked in a tattered robe. Harry had gasped when he laid sight on her - her eyes were blank and hollow, and her once long and silky hair was matted with blood. She had never been the same after that. The Order had tried to find out what happened, but she refused to talk. From then on, she had terrible nightmares, nightmares where she would wake up screaming, covered in sweat. Sometimes the things she screamed were names.

Bellatrix.

Malfoy.

And worst of all, Voldemort.

Sometime they would be pleas, and Harry couldn't bare to listen to them.

And other times she would scream for him, and he would go to her, put her arms around her, and tell her everything would be alright. Or she would come to him, like tonight.

"I'm sorry," she whispered out of nowhere. Harry smiled wanly.

"Sorry about what, love?"

Adriana sighed and sat up, and ran a hand over her eyes imatiently. "For crying about this, for coming to you everytime I have a bad dream...it's silly. It's just..." her seafoam eyes filled with tears again. "...they're so real. It's like I'm living what happened over and over again." She let out a stifled sob. "I'm sorry," she repeated, burying her face in her hands.

Harry shook his head and put an arm around her shoulders comfortingly, letting the darkness of his room wash over them both. She leaned on him, and Harry thought he caught a whif of her vanilla shampoo. He knew it was terrible and selfish, but he sometimes hoped that the dreams would never stop. If they did, he could never hold her in his bed anymore, or kiss her, or do anything. He hated himself for thinking that, but that didn't stop the relief that flooded through his viens whenever she called for him.

'_You're a horrible person,' _he thought to himself as Adriana sobbed quietly on his shoulder.

"Can I stay with you tonight? Just for tonight?" Harry felt himself tense as his sister spoke. "Please? I don't want to sleep alone."

_'Well, well,' _a voice whispered in his head. _'Isn't this the most interesting oppurtunity...' _He would say yes and lower her into his bed, touch her, kiss her...and she would give in, of this Harry was sure. She was vulnerable, she was scared, and if there ever was a night to try something, it was tonight.

But it was wrong.

'_So? You've wanted this for so long... and maybe she has too.' _Harry shut his eyes and imagined how it would be. It would be fucking perfect, thats how it would be. To feel her bare skin on his, to feel her lips caressing him gently...

Adriana sniffled and Harry felt her tears fall on his shoulder. The fantasy abrubtly fell apart and Harry shook his head.

"No. I'm sorry."

Adriana looked up, confusion written on her face. "What? Why...I mean, what's wrong?"

Harry swallowed and looked down at his hands. _'Because I won't be able to control myself, that's what's wrong!' _He wondered briefly what she would do if he told her that. Would she be relieved, because she felt the same way? Or would revulsion spread over her face at the thought of him touching her? He let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding as he remembered that he had an actual excuse for refusing her. How could he have forgotten?

"I have to get up really early tomorrow- you know, for that meeting with the new Minister of Magic. I wouldn't want to wake you up."

"I thought you said you weren't going to that."

_'I am now.' "_Yeah, I know. I changed my mind. Nothing wrong with giving the guy a chance, right?"

His sister smiled wanly as she rose from his bed. "No, I guess not." She leaned forward suddenly toward him, and for one heart stopping moment, Harry thought she was going to kiss him.

But she didn't.

"Good night, big brother," she whispered, hugging him.

" 'Night," Harry managed hoarsly, savoring the feel of her skin on his. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, then."

Adriana extracted herself from his arms gently and turned to leave. Pausing, she turned toward him abrubtly. "Harry?"

His heart skipped.

"Yeah?"

"I love you." Without waiting for a reply, she left his room, shutting the door behind her.

He could still feel the imprint of her embrace as he sank back into his bed.

"I love you too," he whispered.

End Ch. 2.

A/N- Well, what did you think?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N- THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! I can't tell you how encouraging they are.

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**Chapter 3- It's Part Of My Charm **

"Um, hello. I'm Harry Potter... I have a meeting with the minister this morning at six."

"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, I'm afraid he had to reschedule that to-"

"What? Why? And how was I supposed to that find out?"

"Mr. Potter, the minister is a very busy man. He sends his sincerest apologies and would very much appreciate it if you would join him for a late dinner tonight at 8 o'clock."

"Dinner? What if I can't make it?"

----------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later Harry was sitting at the breakfast table at Grimmauld Place, ranting exasperatedly about his morning.

"And then- get this- she tells me if I don't go tonight, the minister will be busy for the next two months! Can you believe that? I should have just told her to tell him to sod off, the f-"

"Language, Harry!" interupted Mrs. Weasley sharply.

The Boy Who Lived sighed and stared down at his plate of half eaten toast. He didn't know why the fact that he had been rescheduled by the minister had pissed him off so much. What had he been expecting? Special treatement? Just because he was The Famous Harry Potter?

"I thought you said you didn't even want to meet him," commented Lupin from further down the table, echoing his sister's words. "What's changed your mind?"

Harry shrugged. " I don't know. Nothing wrong with giving him a chance..."

Lupin frowned. " I don't know if it's even a good idea to see him, Harry. I've heard things about him..."

"What things?" interjected Hermione, who had been silent up until then. Probably because she and Ron had argued again the night before, reflected Harry. No doubt by tomorrow they would forget anything had ever happened.

"Well...there has been some question as to whether he's the most _honest_ person in the Ministry right now..."

Harry looked up from his plate. "What are you saying?" he interupted. "Do you think he's corrupt?"

Lupin looked uncomfortable as he answered. "Well... his reputation isn't exactly savory."

The Boy Who Lived sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. A corrupt Minister of Magic was all they needed right now.

"What do you mean? What's he done, Remus?" he asked resignedly.

His former teacher just shook his head. "Nothing. At least, nothing we can prove. But, before the return of Voldemort, he was seen in the company of known Deatheaters. Of course, when it came out who they were, he denied having any knowledge about any of that."

Hermione frowned. "What if he really didn't know about them? I mean, I know it's a long shot, but maybe he really didn't."

Remus smiled sadly. "That's not the only thing. I-"

"THAT IS IT!" Everyone jumped as Mrs. Weasley rose from her seat. "I WILL NOT SIT HERE AND LISTEN TO THIS! CAN'T WE HAVE ONE MEAL WHEN CORRUPTION AND VIOLENCE ARE NOT MENTIONED? IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?"

Remus was was white as he reached out to comfort her. "Molly..."

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "No, Remus. I don't want to hear about my husband and son's employer being..." she trailed off, and, to his horror, Harry realized she was about to cry. Without warning she fled the room, tears running down her cheeks.

"Blimey," whispered Ron after a moment. "I've never seen her like that...I mean, I knew the war was getting to her, but..."

Hermione got up and kissed his cheek comfortingly. "It's alright," she said. "She'll be fine.She just needs some time."

Ron smiled up at her shakily. "Thanks."

Harry said nothing. Something told him she would need more than just time. He rose quietly. "I think I'm going to go upstairs now," he said.

"Wow," said Adriana. "She actually _cried_?"

The siblings were sitting on her bed, facing each other as Harry told her what had transpired downstairs.

He nodded despondently. "Yeah. Everyone was really shocked..."

"You know, I thought something was the matter with her... I just didn't realize something was _really _the matter, you know?"

Harry sighed heavily and fell back onto the bed. "Yeah, I know."

A comfortable silence fell between the two as Harry reflected on the events that had transpired a few minutes ago. The war was starting to get to everyone, and that scared him a little bit. Without Dumbledore's reassuring prescence, everything seemed that much worse. It was like the Order had given up.

Adriana interupted his thoughts with the question that Harry knew had been coming. "Are you still going to meet him tonight?"

"I don't know...you think I should?"

She shrugged and layed down next to him. "Maybe. I think you should at least consider it. Did he ever tell you _why_ he wanted you to meet him?"

Harry shook his head and stared at the ceiling with a frown. "No."

"Well..."

"Well what?"

"Maybe he wants to offer you a job."

Harry scoffed. "Why would he want to hire me? I still have a year of school to complete-"

"If there will even be a school. They haven't officially confirmed if it will be open this year, have they?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Harry, think about it. His life would be so much easier if he had The Chosen One on his team. A lot of his naysayers will be silenced if you worked for him."

"I guess I never thought of it that way."

"_And_, if you did work for him, you'd be pretty useful to the Order then, wouldn't you?"

"Go on..." he liked where this was going.

"If you were, like, his assistant or something, you could inform the Order on all the crap that he does!"

Harry smiled as he sat up slowly. "Yeah, they'd _have _to let me join then, wouldn't they?"

Adriana smiled back and rose to face him. "Yeah, they would."

Harry turned to her and grinned. "You know, little sister, you really should consider going into politics."

She hit him playfully with a pillow. "Maybe I will! I'm definitely smarter than you!"

Harry laughed for the first time in days. "Hey!" he protested. "That hurts!" He grabbed a pillow and hit her back. She snickered and shoved him. He shoved back and she fell back into the bed giggling. A moment later they were wrestling and Harry had easily overpowered her.

"Okay, okay!" Adriana cried in mock surrender from beneath him. "You win!"

Harry smirked down at her. "I _always_ win. It's part of my charm." His smile fell as he realized how close they were. He could feel her warm breath tickle his face gently.

He was on top of her, practically straddling her.

And, with just one inclination of his head, he would be kissing her.

His eyes widened as realized he was getting aroused.

And, to his horror, he knew that in a moment Adriana would realize it too.

End. Ch 3.

A/N: So, will he kiss her? Will he run away? Tell me what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four -Trust and Corruption **

A/N- Thank you sooo much to all who posted reviews! They are so encouraging, I can't even tell you.

"Harry, do you have a girlfriend?"

"Um. No, not really."

"Hmm. A boyfriend, perhaps?"

Harry looked down at his plate, ears burning. "No. No boyfriend, no girlfriend...nothing."

The man if front of him pursed his lips thoughfully. "Really. You know, when I was your age- and I'll be honest here- I would fuck anything that moved. Men, women, didn't matter to me. Of course, I have calmed down a bit since then. Got married, settled down, you know. Can't live like that when you're in the public eye. Sadly."

Harry didn't know what to say. His evening was turning out to be much stranger than he originally thought. He had _planned_ to meet the minister, maybe eat a little, try to find out if Hogwarts was going to stay open, and leave. _Maybe, _just maybe, recieve a job offer and leave without promising anything. But there was one thing that he hadn't planned on- the conversation he was having, the conversation he had been having, the way the minister acted around him.

He was honest, direct.

Fatherly, in a way.

In other words, completly unlike Harry had thought he would be.

He had excpected a politician, a Cornelius Fudge version Two. Slimy, silver tongued, an insincere flatterer. Not the man sitting before him. He glanced up from the table at his companion thoughtfully.

Malcolm Winters caught his gaze and held it, blue eyes blazing. The new Minister of Magic was a bit young to be leading the magical world, only forty six, and women all over London mooned over him. Six feet tall, with wavy dark hair flecked with gray, and a strong jaw, he put off a raw, primal energy that was refreshing to many. Since the last minister's assasination, no one thought anybody would step forward to take his place. But then, as if out of thin air, Winters showed up. Took the world by storm.

Now, for all intensive purposes, he is the most powerful man in the world.

And now Harry was having dinner with him, eating, of all things, a _hamburger._ The minister himself was enjoying a chicken sandwich, wearing a small smirk as he sipped his drink, a pepsi.

He has a sense of humor, Harry realized.

"You know, Harry, you have the look of someone in love. So either you are lying to me, and you _do _have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend...or you have feelings for someone you shouldn't, someone you are ashamed to care for in that way. Who could it be?" the minister taps his fingers on the table impatiently, eyes boring into the Boy Who Lived. Harry shifted uncomfortably, a vision of Adriana floating before his eyes.

"Who could it be?" he repeats thoughtfully. Harry decided to change the subject and opens his mouth. "Minsister, I-"

Winters holds up his hand, revealing calloused and worn palms. "Harry, Harry. Please. It's Malcolm. If we are going to work together, we must be on a first name basis. I prefer it that way."

Harry's heartrate spead up as he spoke."That's what I wanted to talk to you about...Malcolm. Is the reason we are having dinner because-"

"You know-" the minister spoke as if Harry had said nothing. "-when I was about your age, I had a bit of a, well, _thing_ for my cousin. Can you believe that?" he chuckled as if he had just told a very amusing joke.

Harry's cheeks reddened and he remained silent.

Winters leaned forward suddenly. "You know, my boy, you have been awfully quiet this evening. A lesser man than me could think that you don't like me very much. Or you don't trust me." he narrowed his eyes for a moment, studying Harry critically. "I believe it is the latter," he said at last. "How interesting."

Harry thought for a moment of Lupin's accusations of Winters, saying he was corrupt. "Minister- Malcolm- I don't know what to think of you. You're not at all like I expected you to be."

"What did you think I would be like, then?"

Harry shifted in his seat, an uncomfortable plastic thing that reminded him of the chairs of his old elementary school. "I don't know. More like Fudge, I guess."

"You mean corrupt?"

Harry looked up sharply. "What? How did...I mean, there was never any proof about that."

Winters smiled humorlessly. "One does not need proof after one lives through the initial years of Voldemort's return," he said quietly. Harry was surprised he used the Dark Lord's real name, and he felt himself respect the man if front of him more and more. "He could have done something, as I'm sure you know. Instead, he did...things that made me ashamed of being seen with him."

"What things?" Harry inquired curiously.

The minister looked at him. "You know, Harry, I don't think your distrust of me is completely your doing. You've been influenced by someone else, haven't you?"

"I-"

Winters raised his hand again. "Never mind. I can tell you're uncomfortable."

Harry shook his head. "Min- Malcolm, it's not that I don't like you. It's just..." he trailed off for a moment, wondering what he wanted to say. "...it's just, things have been said about you. Some...people...are suspicious of you."

Malcolm smiled coldly. "Ah. I think I know just what people you are referring to, Harry. I am well aware of the Order's existence, you know."

Harry felt all of the blood drain from his face at the minister's statement. It was impossible. _Impossible._ "W-what...?" he stammered. He was lying, Harry thought hopefully. Fishing. He doesn't _really_ know anything.

Winters sighed. "I have my sources." he said shortly."It disturbs me that they feel that way about me, Harry. And the fact they are trying to turn you against me, as well..."

Harry blinked. "I don't think they were trying to turn me against you, Min-Malcolm, I just think they were trying to warn me. Prepare me, I guess."

"If we are going to work together, Harry, I need to be able to trust you. I can't be afraid you'll inform them on my every action."

"So you _do _want to offer me a job, then."

"Of course I do. You have the potential to be very useful for me, as I'm sure the Order has already told you." Harry nodded reluctantly. "But something I don't think they told you...this job will open doors for you, Harry. After working as my personal aid and advisor, you will be able to hold any position in the ministry you want. Maybe have my job one day." Winters laughed. "Wouldn't that be something?"

Harry stared at him, shocked and a little dismayed. Personal aid and _advisor_...that was more than he even thought about hoping for...He wouldn't just be his little poster boy- he would actually be doing something, something useful.

"School..." was all he could say.

Winters looked down at his lap for a moment before speaking. "I'm afraid Hogwarts won't be opening this year. At least, not in September. Perhaps later in the year, but it's doubtful. I did everything I could...but even I don't have absolute power," he said, true regret echoing in his voice.

Harry was surprised that he felt relatively nothing. Now, nothing stood in the way of taking this oppurtunity. And after what happened with Adriana...

It would be good to stay out of the house more often.

In that moment he made his decision. "Yes," he said firmly.

The minister raised an eyebrow. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, I will work for you. I accept your job offer, Malcolm."

Winters smiled widly, revealing white, even teeth. "Excellent, my boy! Excellent! We must celebrate! Here, I have just the thing..." meal forgotten, he reached into the briefcase he had brought with him and romoved a liqour bottle. "Mmmm...firewhiskey. Have you tried it before, Harry?" his eyes were bright as he took out pair of shot glasses.

Harry grinned back at him. "Yeah, once or twice," he said, licking his lips in anticipation. He had purchased a bottle before the end of the previous year, and had spent much of his stay at Privet Drive drunk out of his mind. He had quite liked the whole experience, and regretted not buying more. And regretted not thinking of the idea of drinking before.

"Excellent!" Malcolm said again, pouring the amber liquid into the glasses and sliding one to Harry across the grimy table.

"To the future!" he cried, raising his glass.

Harry laughed as he rose his own. "To the future!" he echoed, downing the alcohol in one swallow. Malcolm followed suit. It felt pleasently warm inside him after the initial burn in his throat.

"Another?" Malcolm raised the bottle and smiled at The Boy Who Lived aggressively.

Harry laughed again, his head already starting to swim.

"Why not?"

* * *

An hour later Harry was stumbling up to the door of Grimmauld Place, the cold night air whipping through his shoulder length black hair. The minister, as intoxicated as him, had apparated him back to his home and had his arm around him. 

"I guess this is where we part ways," Harry slurred. His voice sounded loud to his own ears.

"Yesssss..." Malcolm mumbled. He stopped at the doorstep, supporting Harry. "Good of you to take the job." Harry felt his hot breath on his face.

"Good of you to offer it to me. " Harry tried to pat Malcolm on the shoulder, but he was so drunk that for a moment he thought he would miss. In the blink of an eye his hand landed on the minister's arm and he laughed. The world swam around him, and he could barely focus on the man in front of him. "I miss this."

Winters cocked his head comically. "Miss what?"

Harry motioned around, or, tried to motion. He ended up flailing his arms and accidentally smacking Malcolm in the chest. "Ha! Sorry. You know, _thissss. _Getting wasted. Haven't gotten a chance to lately." He blinked and suddenly the minister's hand was on the small of his back, his touch warm, and he was whispering to him, lips moving, tongue so close to his neck.

"Mmmmm..." he inhaled slowly, savoringly. "I miss this too. You don't know how much, Harry." He blinked again and the minister had let him go, and he stumbled forward, leaning on the door for support.

"Goodnight, Harry!" he called, waving to him from the end of the street.

Harry raised his hand back, and then the minister was gone. He heaved a sigh and stared at the door, heart pounding in his chest. That was wierd...had the minister just...? No. He was too intoxicated to decide anything.

Harry didn't want to go in, not after what had happend with Adriana. He didn't wan to have to face her, not now, not ever.

Hopefully she hadn't noticed anything, hopefully he had jumped off the bed in time. But she would still have questions.

Questions he didn't know how to answer.

Holding his breath, Harry opened the door cautiously. Despite his drunkenness, he was quiet enough not to wake anyone as he ascended the stairs to his bedroom. And then, just as relief was flooding through his viens, he saw that the light in his sister's room was on, and then the door opened, and then she was standing there, with so much of her creamy skin revealed by her pink nightgown, staring at him.

"Harry?"

The Boy Who Lived exhaled slowly and started forward, wishing he had just found some bench to sleep on.

He had a long night ahead of him.

End Ch. 4

A/N- Yay, I finally finished! What did you think of the minister? Reviews, as always, are appreciated.


	5. extra author's note

**Chapter 4- You Can Leave the Bottle**

**A/N- This is the chapter I was originally going to post for four, but I decided to postpone the kiss until a later chapter. This was an interesting excercise with a new writing style for me, and I don't know if it completely worked. It was fun, though! **

_Breathe. _

Harry inhaled.

_Breathe. _

He exhaled.

_Breathe. _

_Breathe. _

_Breathe. _

He had kissed her. God help him, he had.

He just couldn't help himself. She had just looked so beautiful...

And when he pulled back, he saw the emotions flit across her face.

Shock.

Confusion.

Worst of all...

Revulsion.

_Breathe. _

He had ruined everything. It would never, ever be the same.

And now he was in the loo at The Hog's Head, trying not to have a panic attack.

_Breathe. _

He crouched over the dirty sink and washed his hands. Ran them over his face. It would be okay.

No it wouldn't.

He straightened, stared at his reflection in the mirror. Wild emarald eyes blazed back at him.

Unruly hair. Broad shoulders. Six feet tall.

Handsome, he supposed. But too much like James Potter.

Was that why she had been disgusted by him?

Did she see her father in his face instead of him?

Did it even matter anymore?

_Breathe. _

He had kissed her.

Pulled back.

Revulsion.

Ran out of the room.

Apparated to Hog's Head.

What was he supposed to do now?

_You need a drink._

Yes. Yes, he did.

Exit the bathroom.

Sit at a filthy table. A firewhiskey, please.

You can leave the bottle.

End Ch. 4

**A/N- You know, I believe Harry is a little bit insecure...he could have mistaken another emotion for revulsion... Anyway, as I said, this was really an excerise in a new style, and I know it's waaaay to short. Don't worry, the rest of the story will be more traditional. Reading this, I realize that it (unintentionally) forshadows upcoming events. And no, I'm not talking about a kiss...**


	6. Goodnight

**Chapter 5- Goodnight**

****

**A/N- Whew, I finally finished! You Can Leave the Bottle was just a little bonus chappie, and DID NOT REALLY HAPPEN. I'm soooo sorry if i mislead anybody. **

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Sad, but true.

Her room was dimly lit, but Harry could see how newly tidy it was. She cleaned when she was worried about something. Crap.

Adriana sat on her bed and patted the place beside her, smiling up at him tiredly. Head still swimming, he made a concentrated effort to walk over to her bed without stumbling. One foot in front of the other, straight line. He took his seat next to her, sinking into her unmade bed. The air seemed to almost buzz, and despite his drunkeness, he felt hyper alert. Like he was ready for something. Without a word, his sister laid her head on his shoulder. He tried his best to look forward at the picture of Viktor Krum on the wall that Ron had given her for Christmas and not stare down her nightgown.

"So."

Harry swallowed. "So."

"How did it go? I mean, I can tell it went okay, but did he offer you a job?"

Harry blinked. Maybe she wouldn't ask about what happened earlier. "Actually, he did ask me, to, uh, be his assistant. Personal assistant."

"And?"

"I accepted."

Adriana lifted her head from his shoulder and studied him, her expression unreadable. "Wow, that's...huge."

Harry didn't look at her as he answered. "Yeah."

They sat like that for a while, staring into space, each thinking about the not to distant future, about how things were going to change. Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead with his knuckles. He shut his eyes and the girl next to him shifted slightly.

"You want to sleep with me tonight?"

He turned to her, sure he had not heard her right. "What?"

She gave a little half smile. "I can tell you've had a little too much to drink, you know. And people always come in your room in the morning...if you sleep here, you'll be able to rest without anyone bothering you. They'll just assume that you had a late night with the minister or something." She flipped back her long dark hair impatiently and looked at him with those damned seafoam eyes. "I can even bring you breakfast in the morning!"

Harry just stared at her, his thoughts swirling in a confused jumble. When they were younger, they had often sneaked into eachother's rooms to sleep in the same bed, but when puberty hit and Harry realized just how much he loved her, he found little reasons not to do it anymore, and they eventually stopped. He often wondered if he had hurt her feelings with that. But now...

She grinned at him. "I'm not taking no for an answer, Harry. Like you'll even be able to get to your bedroom without passing out in a drunken stupor anyway!"

He smiled back at her. "Fine. But only because you're forcing me, little miss."

She looked at him incredulously. "_Little miss? _Where did that come from? You better not start calling me that..." she trailed off threateningly.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Or what, _little miss_?"

She rose from the bed, her eyes widened in mock fury. "Or I'll tell Mrs. Weasley you came home drunk, that's what!"

Harry made as if he were going to rise and grab her, and she giggled and ran to the doorway. "I'll be right back," she laughed.

"Right. Coward."

Shaking her head, she turned and went down the hall. A moment later, Harry heard the bathroom door close and water from the sink running. He sighed and ran his fingers through his thick black hair. Should he sleep on the floor? Should he just go to his room while she was in the bathroom? He stared at the picture of Krum, who waved at him haughtily.

No. He would prove to himself, and prove to her, that he could control himself. Perhaps doing this would make her forget about earlier this afternoon, before he left. When he almost...

No. No thinking about that.

Decision made, he leaned forward and took off his new black combat boots, a present from himself when his old sneakers had fallen apart. Since he had purchased them, his wardrobe had changed dramatically, becoming almost exclusivly black, dark green, or dark red. For his dinner with the minister, he wore a cotton crimson shirt that was and black pants with his (also new) black leather jacket. It had cost him a pretty penny, but it was worth it. Unless he was very much mistaken, the younger women of the house, _including_ Adriana, now often snuck admiring glances at him. Unless he was very much mistaken.

He removed his jacket as well and rose to set it on a table in her room, and set his boots of the floor next to one of the chairs. With his back turned, he didn't notice his sister re-enter the room until she lept into the bed.

"Ready to go to sleep, or do I need to sing you a lullaby?"

Harry turned and his breath caught in his throat. Adriana was kneeling on the bed, face scrubbed clean and radiant. She looked good enough to eat.

"Um..." his head swam again, this time for a completely different reason.

She frowned. "Shouldn't you take that shirt off? I mean, cotton wrinkles really easily, you know."

Harry just stared at her. Was this some sort of a test? "Nah, I'll leave it on," he said, surprised at how even his voice was. "I'll just magic away the wrinkles in the morning. Thank Merlin I can do that legally now, eh?"

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Mr. I-Use-Magic-For-Every-Little-Thing-Because-I-Can." She moved so he would have room to get into the bed and flung the covers over herself. "You better not hog the sheets like you used to," she sniffed. Harry shook his head and smiled, wishing his heartrate would slow down. He climbed onto the bed clumsily, alcohol still running amok on his motor skills.

"You're going to have a huge hangover when you wake back up," Adriana whispered as he settled himself in.

Harry grinned as he took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand next to the bed. "You wish." She kicked him under the covers with a giggle. Harry rolled over to face her, and smiled as he saw how tired she was. "Goodnight, Adriana," he whispered, touching her cheek.

Looking at him with light green eyes, she reached her hand out to stroke his scar. Harry's whole body tensed up at her touch, and he prayed that she wouldn't notice. Her fingers were cool to the touch as she she stared at him. "Goodnight, Harry." She turned and switched off the light, and the the bedroom was thrown into darkness.

* * *

Harry only woke once that night, and when he did, he found his sister's head on his chest, her arm flung over him. He smiled sleepily and ran his fingers over her back and kissed her forehead lovingly, feeling whole and happy. When he awoke the next day, he had no memory of the incident.

* * *

"Harry, wake up."

"Mmflghabye."

"_What? _Come on, Harry, up. The sun is shining, and all of that."

"Hmm? Uhg... Morning. Sleep well?"

"Yes, great. No dreams! Probably because my big strong brother was there to protect me from them, eh?"

"Yeah, right. Where's the breakfast in bed you promised me?"

"Well, that's the thing."

" Don't tell me."

"Mrs. Weasley wants you downstairs...NOW. She's upset you came home so late."

"How does she know-"

"I don't know. Here, I brought you a change of clothes. What do you know, your shirt wrinkled."

"Haha. Godammit. You know, it's none of her business when I-"

"You don't need to tell me that! Hurry up!"

An hour later Harry was in his room, lying on his back staring at the ceiling. After getting yelled at by Mrs. Weasley, he had told everyone about the dinner with the minister, and about the job. And how he had accepted it. There was shock, and anger. Harry told everyone firmly that it was his life, his desision. Remus had expressed disapointment, Moody had just looked at him. With both eyes.

Someone knocked on his door. Thinking it was Adriana, Harry sat up.

"Come in!" he called, smoothing his shirt and running his hands through his hair quickly.

Instead of seeing his sister's pretty face, he was confronted with freckles and red hair. "Hey, Ron," he said, disapointed.

His friend smiled at him as he entered, shutting the door behind him quietly. "Hey, mate. Pretty rough down there."

"Yeah. So what do you want?" Harry's voice sounded harsh to his own ears.

Ron looked sort of hurt. "Can we talk about something, Harry?"

The Boy Who Lived shrugged. "Sure. What do you want to talk about?"

Ron shifted from foot to foot nervously. "Well, see, lately...lately you've been kind of..."

"Kind of what?"

"Well. Cold. It's like you're mad at me, or something. Are you? Did I do something?"

In actuality, Ron had done something. Just not something Harry could talk to him about. Over the summer, without Snape's harsh, nerve racking presence, The Boy Who Lived realized he was better than he thought he was as Occlumency. And, to his surprise, Legillimency. When he came back to Grimmauld place, he decided to try out his new abilities at the dinner table. Ron seemed a safe subject, sitting there holding hands with Hermione. So he slowly entered his mind, and found something awful in his friend's thoughts.

Pure, unadulterated lust.

Directed at the person Harry held most dear to his heart: Adriana.

"Harry?"

"No, of course not, Ron. Nothing."

"Whew, that's a relief. I thought you were upset that Hermione and I are going out. Stupid, right?"

Harry resisted the urge to put Ron in a chokehold as he answered. "Yeah. I mean, you two make a great couple...you're perfect for eachother, and I couldn't be happier for you two."

Ron grinned. "Well, as long as we're alright, mate, I'm going to go downstairs and see if I can catch up with Hermione and your sister."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "What?"

"They decided to take a walk in a few minutes. They'll probably end up shopping, and I need some new robes."

Harry stood. "Maybe I'll come...I need some, uh, ink. And parchment."

Ron looked uncomfortable as he answered. "Actually...Ginny wants to talk to you. She's pretty upset about something.

"Well, I'll see you later, mate! I'll pick up some ink for you, if you want."

As Ron turned and left the room, Harry watched him walk down the stairs to Hermione and Adriana, who were getting ready to leave. To his horror, Ron put his arms around the two girls and the trio left, laughing at something the redhead had said.

Harry felt sick.

This was not going to end well.

End Chapter.


	7. Why Not, Indeed

**Chapter 6- Why Not, Indeed**

**A/N- Wow, another chapter written. THANK YOU SO MUCH to all reviewers, you make me want to write more. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, blahbity blah blah. **

"Hello, Harry."

"Ginny. Ron said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah. You want to help me with these dishes?"

Harry strode from the doorway to the sink in the kitchen to stand next to her. "Sure."

Handing him a dish, Ginny kept her eyes firmly on her hands as she scrubbed a plate from breakfast. "I can't believe mom is making me do these by hand. Just because she caught me with Fred and George's joke stuff!"

Harry shook his head with a small smile. "Yeah. She tends to overreact about things. Like she did this morning."

Ginny nodded and placed her plate on a small pile of clean dishes. "I thought she would never stop yelling. What time did you come back last night?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Late."

"Oh."

A silence fell over them after he spoke, and Harry thought uncomfortably about the fact that Ron was out with his sister. He wished Ginny would just come out and say whatever she wanted to say so he could go catch up with them.

"Would you hand me that glass, please?"

Harry took a sidelong glance at the girl next to him. "Yeah, sure."

"Thanks."

Harry felt his patience begin to fray. "So," he said casually, "You wanted to talk to me about something?" _'Come on. Like I don't have somewhere else I need to be.'_

Ginny ran her hands nervously over the apron she was wearing and turned to him. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm just..." she trailed off for a moment. "I'm just still trying to figure out what I want to say," she finished sheepishly.

Harry fought the urge to shake the pretty redhead impatiently and smiled. "That's okay."

Ginny inhaled deeply. "Right. I just, need to get this out in the open, tell you how I feel. Right? Right." She exhaled. "Right. Okay. Harry."

"Yes?"

"I still have feelings for you. And I was wondering...if you felt the same way about me. There. That's what I wanted to say. I'm done." She blushed and looked up at him hopefully.

Harry felt himself redden. "Ginny..." What was he supposed to say? That he never had feelings for her, that he had just been lonely last year, that it had just been lust? Ron had Lavender, at least for a little while, and Adriana was on her third or fourth boyfriend by then. He started to feel like he was hopeless, and the fact that he could never be with his sister was starting to sink in. And then came Ginny, little Ginny who had always had a crush on him. So available, so attainable. He gave his body, but not his mind. And then he realized Ginny deserved better, so he broke it off, telling her it was too dangerous for them to be together, that Voldemort would try to harm her. He thought she had fallen for it, and gotten over him. Apparently he had been wrong.

"Ginny...I...I can't. I..." _'Come on, man. Be firm, be strong.' _Harry straightened and looked directly into her hopeful, lovestruck eyes. "I don't feel the same way. I'm sorry."

Ginny's eyes filled with tears and she looked away for a moment. Harry stood there, awkwardly holding a dirty plate and wondered if he should leave the room.

"Is there someone else?"

Harry turned to her, surprised at the question. "What?"

Tears ran down Ginny's face as she spoke. "I said, is there someone else? I deserve to know. _Do you have feelings for someone else_?"

A number of responses ran through Harry's head, but he decided on the truth. Or, at least, part of the truth. "Yes," he whispered. "I do."

Ginny's face contorted for a moment and then cleared. She wiped her hand across her face. "Oh. Well. I...I guess I just made a big fool out of myself, didn't I?"

Harry shook his head, horrified. "No, no...no. Listen, this is going to sound like complete crap, but it's not you. It's really, one hundred percent me, and my issues. Seriously. Maybe we could still be friends? I mean, I completly understand if-"

"No," Ginny interupted. "I'd like that, Harry. I really would." She smiled shakily and Harry felt relief course through his veins. "There's just one thing."

The Boy Who Lived winced. "Yes?"

"Who is it?" she asked. There was no need to explain what she meant.

Harry opened his mouth, and then closed it. There was no way he could tell her. "I...I'd rather not..."

Ginny nodded. "Okay. Fine. But I'll find out, you know."

He chuckled emptily. "I doubt it. Listen," he began. "I was going to go to Diagon Alley and catch up with everyone. Would you like to join me?"

The redhead smiled. "I'd love to."

* * *

"Harry!" Adriana rushed to greet him, bumping into several innocent shoppers as she made her way over to him. "What are you doing here? Mrs. Weasley let you out of the house?"

He laughed and bent to kiss her on the cheek. "She's not my mother and I'm seventeen. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want," he bragged.

His sister laughed. "Lucky."

Ginny looked around quickly and waved at Hermione and Ron, who began walking in thier direction. "Hey, Adriana," she said, smiling.

"Ginny," she greeted coldly.

Ginny's face fell and she glanced at Harry. He gave an imperceptible shrug and turned toward his sister. "What have you been doing?" he asked, happy to see that she had left Ron's company for him.

"Oh, come on, Harry. We're in Madame Malkin's shop, so I bet even you can put the dots together," interupted Hermione as she reached them with Ron in tow. She was dressed in royal blue dress robes and looked lovely, and her boyfreind was wearing a matching royal blue affair as well. He looked considerably less lovely.

"You look great, Ron," he snickered. His friend rolled his eyes.

"Hermione is determined to look _perfect _for the dance that's this year. Aren't you, _sweetie?" _

Hermione answered, but Harry didn't hear. He wondered when they would find out officially that Hogwarts wouldn't be opening in September, wondered if he should tell them.

No, he decided. He could get Malcolm into trouble. They would all find out eventually, anyway.

"Besides," Ron interupted, "_Adriana_ thinks I look good, right?" he looked hopefully to the girl, who laughed. Harry wondered how long it would take to wrap his hands around the redhead's neck and throttle him to death before anybody would do anything.

"You look _amazing,_ Ron," Adriana said with a smile. He grinned at her and Harry clenched his fists so hard his fingernails dug into palms painfully. One more word. One more word and he would kill him.

"Well, well, well, this is a small world," said a voice from behind him. He turned and his eyes widened.

"Minister! What are you doing here?"

Malcolm Winters laughed. "Harry, it's Malcolm! Really, how many times do I have to tell you? I am here for new robes, of course. And are these your friends?" He looked around at the small group of teens with a smile.

Harry blinked. " Oh, yeah, where are my manners? Yeah, this is Ron-" Winters shook his hand formally. "-this is Hermione-" he nodded to her. "-Ginny-" another nod. "-and my sister, Adriana."

"Ohhh," whispered Malcolm. He took her hand and kissed it lingeringly. "Harry neglected to inform me of how perfectly exquisite you are, my dear."

Adriana giggled. "Thank you, Minister," she managed, blushing furiously.

"Please," he said silkily. "Malcolm."

"Thank you, _Malcolm_," she repeated with an admiring smile. Harry felt a jealous twinge somewhere deep inside his stomach, but said nothing. Like there was anything he could say, anyway.

"No need to thank me for speaking the truth, pretty one." he turned to the Boy Who Lived. "So, my boy, excited about your first day?"

Harry nodded. "Of course, Malcolm. But, when is that, exactly?"

Winters smiled at him widly, revealing his impossibly even, white teeth. "Hmm. How about today?"

Harry blinked. " Um, sure. Why not?"

The minister chuckled. "Why not, indeed. Well, no point in wasting time. I have a meeting with some goblins in an hour, then lunch, then a meeting with Fudge. That ought to be interesting, eh?"

Harry grinned. "Yeah. Interesting."

"Shall we go?"

"Um, alright. Bye, everyone." He waved to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny and kissed Adriana on the cheek tenderly. "Make sure to tell Mrs. Weasley what I'm doing so she dosn't freak out, okay?" he whispered in her ear.

She nodded. Harry smiled at her and Malcolm offered his arm to him. "We're apparating there, I'm afraid. You don't mind, I hope."

Harry took his arm and shook his head. "No."

Malcolm grinned at him, eyes twinkling. "Good, because I'd do it if you did anyway."

Harry laughed and then they were gone.

End Chapter.

**A/N- Next chapter should be more Malcolm-Harry interaction. I love writing Malcolm, he's just fun. Please review! **


	8. Going Off the Deep End

**Going off the Deep End**

**A/N- Whew, sorry for taking so long. School is a bitch. And, fun, I have to write another paper tonight. Anyway, thanks for reviewing...a few of them have been pretty, well, unfriendly, but that's to be ecxpected, given the incest and all. Besides, most of you have been really great...THANK YOU. I never excpected so many people would like something I wrote. BTW, I know the pacing has been a little slow- don't worry. Things are going to speed up in the next few chapters. **

**Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure Harry Potter is not mine...**

"It was interesting, meeting your friends. They were very...ah, nice."

Harry smiled. "Nice?"

"Yes. Nice."

"Come on, Minister. I think you can do better than that," said the Boy Who Lived amusedly. "If I'm going to be honest with you, the least you could do is be honest with me."

"Tit for tat, eh?"

"Precisely."

Malcolm smirked. "I should have known. This one yours?"

"Uh, yeah. I mean, yes. Thanks," said Harry as he leaned forward to ecxept a sandwich from the older man. The pair were in his office, Winters at his desk and his new protoge seated across from him. It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was shining through his windows into the room, lighting it softly. Harry felt himself grow sleepy as he nibbled at his lunch. It had been a long day. And his lunch was bologna and cheese. Great.

"You really want the truth?" inquired the Minister.

Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Obviously."

"Watch it, child. Watch who's in charge."

"Child? I'm seventeen, Malcolm. Hardly a child."

Winters sighed. "Yes, I know. Back to your little friends- you want the truth. I was not impressed, honestly. Your sister seemed like something, but the Weasleys and that girl hardly seemed suitable companions for someone like you."

Harry swallowed a bite of his sandwich slowly, repressing the urge to cringe at the taste of the trash sliding down his throat. "Someone like me?" he managed.

Malcolm nodded. "Yes, someone like you," he said, motioning with the hand not burdened by food. "You, my boy, are in another league. Completely. Those...those _kids_ don't understand who you truly are. It's so obvious-"

"What are you saying? You think _you're _the only person who gets me?" interrupted Harry incredulously.

Winters shook his head. "I would never presume to say something like that, son. It's just...they are so young, you understand? They don't comprehend what you've been through, what you've become. I remember, reading an article about you in your second year of school. You've changed from that little boy so much- you're a man, now. They are still children. You cannot tell me that you've never felt alone amongst them. Can you?"

Harry felt his heart beat increase alarmingly. "I...I have, but it's not like that's odd behavior for a teenager, is it?"

Malcolm smiled gently. "Have I touched a nerve?"

The young wizard shook his head violently. "NO. No. I'm not alone." He clenched his hands compulsively.

The minister leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowed at Harry inquisitively. "I never said you were. But do you _feel_ alone? You must," he said before Harry could answer. "I see it, in your eyes. Every time I see you, there is something burning. Always." He closed his eyes for a moment, a small smile playing around his lips.

"No. No. I, I have my sister. I have Adriana. I'm never alone, as long as I have her."

"Yes, of course. She was charming. Interesting. She seemed very mature to me. So young, but...I believe she has been through something. Something that made her older, somehow." He opened his eyes and stared at the Boy Who Lived.

Harry looked down at his lap. "Yes, she has."

Malcolm nodded, as if Harry had just confirmed his suspicions. "If you ever want to talk about anything...I will not judge you, Harry. You and I are very much alike, you know. I'd like to believe that I would be able to understand whatever you are going through. Do you believe that?"

The Boy Who Lived looked up into the minister's reassuring blue eyes. He had heard shit like that from so many in his life, but it sounded different, somehow, coming from the man before him. "I...yes. I believe you," he said, surprising himself.

Winters smiled at him. "Excellent. Excellent, my boy!" he shook his head with a chuckle. "Interesting day this has been, eh?"

Harry sighed. "Yeah, interesting. Especially when the goblins decided to change the meeting time without telling you- that was great." He placed his chin in his hand and studied the minister.

Malcolm's expression darkened. "Yes. Well, they'll pay for that tomorrow, don't you worry."

"Can't wait."

"I'm sure. I know it's a bit early, Harry, but I believe you are very well suited for this job. Independent, smart, resourceful...and you can drink! I couldn't ask for a better assistant."

"Well, that's fortunate."

The minister chuckled. "I don't think you know how fortunate, my boy. I intend to do things in my term as the leader of the magical world. I want...to make it better. You see the failures of this administration left and right, corruption around every corner. I want this to change, Harry. And I'll need help."

"Well, you have it."

Malcolm nodded. "That is very good news, Harry. Very good news..."

"A toast as celebration of my first day?"

Winters laughed. "Mr. Potter, you just read my mind."

* * *

"Harry! Finally, you're back! Are you going to be at work this long every day?"

Harry laughed tiredly as Adriana flung her arms around him. "Yeah, probably. Sorry, sis." He smiled as she hugged him. A sweet peppermint scent floated gently into his nostrils. Grimmauld Place was as unpleasent as ever, but having her around definitely helped.

She sighed. "Great. Now I'm going to have to spend all of my time with _them_- and Ginny's the worst."

He raised his eyebrows questioningly. "What's wrong with Ginny?"

Adriana rolled her eyes. "She's always so..._morose_, all the time! It's because you dumped her. She's so in love with you, it's disgusting."

Harry felt his heart fall. "What's so disgusting about being in love with me?"

His sister looked up at him with a smile, her seafoam eyes warm and happy. "You are so sensitive, Harry. You're not disgusting- she is."

"Because she has such terrible taste in men, is that it?"

Adriana laughed. "Big, sensitive teddy bear." She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek softy. "Nothing's wrong with you. It's just everyone else who's wrong."

Harry felt his face grow warm. "W-what's wrong with everyone else?" he said hoarsely. _'Control yourself.' _he thought to himself. But she was so close, all he would have to do is reach out, pull her to him...

His sister looked down at her bare feet uncomfortably. "I don't know, it's just...I feel like they're friends with me just because they're friends with you. It's as if they just tolerate me. And they're so...boring! Dull. I don't know. And they still act wierd around me."

Harry sighed. "Do you want me to talk to them?"

Adriana shook her head. "No. It doesn't matter. School will start soon, and I'll be back with my friends."

The Boy Who Lived gulped. He needed to tell her. Lying was not an option any longer. "About that...why don't you sit down...?"

* * *

"...you can't tell _anyone, _allright? This isn't a joke, I mean it. I mean, the minister still isn't one hundred percent sure about it yet, so...there's still a chance."

His sister stared at him, eyes blank. She was sitting in a small wooden chair in the main room, clutching the arms of the ancient antique so hard her knuckles were white. "You're joking. This...you must be! He can't just..._close _the school on a fucking whim! I don't believe-"

"He's not the one responsible, he-"

"Like he couldn't fix it if he wanted to! Honestly, Harry, you act like the man is God or something...!"

"It's not his fault! He doesn't have absolute power!"

"You've been so wierd lately. I can't understand how you can just..._take_ this and not do _anything._"

"What could I do? Malcolm said-"

"_Malcolm_? On a first name basis with the Minister of Magic already?"

Harry gritted his teeth angrily. "I'm not having this conversation with you right now. Just don't tell anyone. I'll see you at dinner, maybe you'll have calmed down by then."

Adriana rose from her chair stiffly. " Fine. Like I'd talk to any of _your_ stupid little friends anything, anyway." she turned to leave haughtily and Harry grabbed her arm so suddenly he shocked himself.

"Don't leave like this. It's not my fault, it's not his. Can't you just except that?" Why couldn't she understand?

Her head snapped back up to him, eyes swirling with emotion. "Let go of me," she whispered slowly.

Harry stared down at her unseeingly, grip firm. "Why won't you listen to me?" he demanded, his grip tightening.

She looked up into his face, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Why won't you let me go? You're hurting me!" She yanked her arm away from his hand angrily. "What's _happened _to you?" she cried.

Harry blinked. "Hurting you...? Adriana..." He reached out to run his fingers through her hair, feeling as if he was dreaming. He couldn't have hurt her, not in a million years. "Calm down. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." He smiled down at her, stroking her tear stained cheek lovingly. "Please believe me. I'm sorry." He placed a strand of her dark hair behind her ear and looked into her startled eyes. "I'd never harm you, ever. You know that..." He took a step closer to her. "Forgive me?" he whispered, taking her face into his hand. "Please?"

She looked up at him. "Harry..." She touched his hand, staring deep into his emerald eyes. "Of course I forgive you. I could never stay angry at you..." she smiled shakily as he wiped a tear from her face. "You've just been...acting so wierd, lately. I guess it just scared me."

He shook his head reassuringly. "I know. I'm sorry. But...it's for the greater good, I promise. Malcolm...he's going to change the world, Adriana. For the better. And I'm going to help him do it. I'm actually going to make a difference." He smiled again at her. "I actually have a say in what's going to happen, I actually have a little bit of power over something. Maybe it just got to my head, a little bit." He kissed her on the forehead tenderly. "Don't worry, I'm not going off the deep end." He gave her a roguish grin and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Just remember," she said, half joking, "You can't control everything that happens in life."

Harry's face fell as he stared at his sister. "I know," he whispered. "I know."

_'But maybe, someday...' _

"Come on, little sister, I believe dinner is waiting."

End Chapter.

A/N- Next chapter- More Harry/Adriana interaction, obviously. Ron is going to do something...not good. And yay, more Order interaction, too!

Reviews, good and bad, are always appreciated. Just no flames, please.

Also: I've just written a short story about Malcolm, and I am debating whether or not to post it. It explains his backround, his future plans, and his thoughts on Harry. But I may decide to keep the mystery about him longer... Thoughts?


	9. Taste in Men

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**A/N- **Sorry about the wait. Lack of internet should be considered torture.

**Taste in Men**

"Adriana! I need to talk to you!"

She looked beautiful, as usual. Dressed in crimson robes with black satin trim, oddly formal, he thought. A look of surprise was plastered on her face as she spoke. "Harry, what-"

"I just wanted to say...I'm sorry, about before. Losing my temper. I was completely out of line, it was stupid, I'm normally not like that..."

"What do you mean? Like what?"

"You know. Violent. Angry," he said, running his hand through his jet black hair awkwardly. He was never really good at apologizing. Some people could wrap others around their little fingers, make them forget why they had been mad in the first place. Harry had never been one of those people.

" It's fine," she replied with a small smile. "I wasn't _really_ surprised about it, considering."

Harry blinked. In his mind, he had imagined every possible reaction she could have had- except this one. "Excuse me?"

She laughed harshly, and Harry wanted to cringe. She sounded so bitter, so old, for someone so heartbreakingly young. "You always spend your time pleasing everybody, everybody _except _yourself. If I lived like that, I think I would have a breakdown too."

"It wasn't a breakdown," he said, bristling. A breakdown made him sound...crazy. He wasn't crazy. _Voldemort was crazy._

"Right. Of course it wasn't a breakdown. Silly me. I just thought that, you know, _out of nowhere_ completely losing you're temper-"

He felt his stomach flip unpleasantly, and an unexpected rage coursed through him, shocking and appalling him. "IT WAS NOT A FUCKING BREAKDOWN! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU-"

Adriana shook her head sadly. "Ah! See? There it is again. You-"

Without any premeditation, he grabbed her shoulders abrubtly, fingernails digging into the fabric of her robes. Those strange, formal robes that made no sense to him. "Shut up," he hissed, suddenly seeing himself in her maddening seafoam eyes, seeing how hagard he looked, how drained. Surely he had not looked like this before, surely he had not always resembled such an unhealthy person, he must have looked better before...?

She smiled up at him sadly, seemingly oblivious to the pain he was inflicting. "Are you in love me, big brother?" she asked softly, as if a normal tone of voice would enrage him further.

Harry frowned at the question, lowering his hands from her shoulders slowly, down her arms until he held her soft hands in his rough ones. "I'm so tired, Adriana," he whispered, touching his forehead to hers, anger forgotten. "I'm just so tired..."

"I know," she said quietly, lifting his hands to her lips with a tenderness that surprised him. "I know."

They stood like that, for a moment, and Harry hated himself for his weakness, hated the fact that he was so flawed, hated that he couldn't be someone else, someone she could love. She kissed his cheek, and he kissed her back, and before he could breathe, before he could _think, _he grabbed her and was kissing her for real, hungry and demanding.

And she kissed him back fiercely, wrapping her slender arms around his neck and pulling his body closer to hers. Harry had never known such carnal pleasure, not in his wildest, most forbidden dreams, and wished the moment would last forever.

"I've been waiting to do that for a long time," he said, pulling back with a sigh.

She giggled and kissed him again. "What took you so long?"

Harry grinned sheepishly. "I guess I was afraid you didn't feel the same way."

Adriana laughed, and this time it sounded right, full of mirth and love. "Silly boy," she said with a smile, ruffling his hair. "You're lucky you're so good lookin'."

He raised an eyebrow incredulously. " 'Good lookin'? Since when did you become country?"

She smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know."

The Boy Who Lived wrapped his arms around his sister's waist firmly. "I have ways of making you talk, little girl."

"Oh yeah?"

He nodded and bent to kiss her neck, ignoring her playful protests. This was how it was supposed to be. "Yeah..."

"My, my, my. Harry Potter lusts after his own sister. How...inappropriate. And how intriguing."

_No. _

Harry straighted, heart beating wildly in his chest, and Adriana disapeared, leaving him alone with the intruder.

"Really, Harry. Incest? I never would have guessed," said Lord Voldemort silkily.

_No. _

"I would have released her sooner had I known.It's just...I love to hear her scream. Bet you would too, eh?"

Harry dove at him. He would do it. This time he would do it. A gutteral cry escaped his throat. "GET OUT! LEAVE ME ALONE! LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"

* * *

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

Harry bolted up, head reeling. "LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"

"Harry! Harry, it's alright, it's me! Me, Adriana! You're just having a bad dream, that's all, shh."

She wrapped her arms around him then, as he had done for her countless times, and stroked his hair, whispering comforts into his ear. He barely heard them. It had been a dream? It was so vivid, so _real, _he could still feel her lips on his. The sheets clung uncomfortably to his sweaty body as his thoughts swirled in his head.

_Did Lord Voldemort know?_

_"I love to hear her scream. Bet you would too, eh?" _

_Fucking bastard. I'll get him. I'll make him wish he had never come back. _

He surrendered himself to his sister's caresses, heartbeat slowly returning to normal.

"It's okay, Harry," she said tenderly. "You can tell me about it, if you want."

He sat up slowly, shaking his head. "What time is it?" he asked, his voice raspy from screaming.

She glanced down at her watch. "It's ten forty five on the dot. You slept in."

He turned to her with a frown. _Don't think about it. Don't think about how close she is, or how she kissed you back... "_Why didn't anyone wake me up?"

Adriana swallowed. "Well, a lot happened this morning."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What did I miss?"

She leaned forward suddenly, and he wondered if he was still dreaming, if this was the moment he was waiting for.

It wasn't.

"Ron broke up with Hermione."

"WHAT?"

* * *

Half an hour later Harry was seated at the breakfast table, dressed simply in all black, completely alone except for Adriana, who occasionally shot worried glances at him. He had startled her with his reaction. He nibbled at his toast angrily, appetite having deserted him with the news. Fucking Ron.

"I didn't know you were so happy about them being together," she said carefully.

_I don't give a damn about them! _"Yeah, well, they made a good couple, don't you think?" _Didn't it violate some girl rule, dating someone else's ex? Surely Adriana and Hermione were good enough friends for her to honor that? _

"Yes, I guess they did. Hermione's pretty broken up. Maybe you should talk to her?"

_Who cares about Hermione and her feelings? All I care about is the fact that Ron wants to get into your fucking pants! _"Yeah, maybe. Or you could talk to her, you know, girl to girl. I bet you'd be better comfort to her than me."

Adriana made a face. "No offense, Harry, but she and I aren't that close. Aren't you, like, her best friend? Don't you want to see her?"

"What do you mean, not that close? Hermione loves you."

"Oh please, Mr. Wishful Thinking. The only reason she tolerates me is because I'm related to you, and you know it. We have nothing, I mean _nothing_, in common."

_Including taste in men, I hope._ "You're exaggerating. And the reason I can't see her is because I have to go to work. And she shouldn't be alone...where is she, again?"

His sister looked at him critically. "Crying in her room, last I heard. She thought about going to her parent's house but Moody said it was too dangerous. As if..." she paused, staring at the table quietly. "As if _Voldemort_ gave a damn about her."

Harry took a bite of his toast and chewed thoughtfully. She had trouble saying the Dark Lord's name sometimes, and he couldn't blame her.

_"I love to hear her scream. Bet you would too, eh?" _

Voldemort's words sent a chill down his spine. She still hadn't told him what happened during her capture, and that scared Harry more than he was willing to admit.

"I'll talk to her when I get back from work, alright? I might be a little late; Malcolm wants to have dinner with me."

She pursed her lips, a habit she had recently taken to every time the minister's name was mentioned. "Whatever. Like I give a shit about her feelings, anyway."

Harry raised his eyebrows but said nothing. A heavy silence began to descend on them, and he wished he had just said he was going to be late and left it at that.

"Well," he said after a while. "I better go." He rose from the table. "See you later?"

Adriana looked up at him, her expression unreadable. "Yeah, sure. tell _Malcolm_ I said hi."

Harry could think of nothing to say to that and dissapparated.

End Ch.

Reviews make me write faster.


	10. Control Freak

**Chapter 10: Control Freak**

**A/N- Sorry about the long wait. As usual, I have been having Internet problems. **

"So, Harry, you must tell me."

"What do you...no, Malcolm, Jesus! Leave it alone."

"Really, Harry. It's painfully clear that you're in love, you've got that starstruck look about you...If it's someone I'm acquainted with...why, I could arrange a date, couldn't I, and then the matter would be settled."

"You don't know them."

"You know I'm not prejudice, if it's a young man, I won't think any less of you. I don't judge."

Harry sighed and rubbed his temples tiredly. He was in Malcolm's favorite apartment, sitting comfortably next to him on a red velvet couch that probably cost more than the Weasley's house, furniture and ghoul included. It seemed they had this conversation every time they met, and Harry was more than sick of it. It was strange, the minister's new obsession with his protégé's nonexistent love life. Harry thought it was, perhaps, that the older man was a control freak; maybe it drove him crazy that there was a piece of knowledge about someone he worked with that he was not privy to. Either that, or Malcolm wanted to sleep with him, like he seemingly did with every hot young thing that came into his line of sight. Harry was surprised at himself for thinking such a thought, and so casually; but then again, after working for Winters for over a month, nothing shocked him anymore. He took a small sip from the drink in his hand and remained silent, praying the subject would be changed, to anything but this. He came here to get away from his problems, not talk about them.

Malcolm smiled, drumming his fingers patiently on his immaculately clothed knee. "Contrary to what I'm sure you believe, I did not ask you to join me tonight just to...grill you on your social life, Harry."

The Boy Who Lived turned his face toward the minister slowly. He had been hitting the wine fairly hard over the course of the evening, and his head swam pleasantly. "Oh, yeah?"

Malcolm stared thoughtfully at the young man beside him. "Do you enjoy working with me, Harry?" 

Harry blinked. "Yes..."

"Don't get so excited. Now, you know I had to let Natalia go."

Harry frowned. Natalia had been the minister's bodyguard. Tall, skeletal, and surprisingly skilled at dueling, she had made no secret of the fact she was one of her charge's lovers. Harry had despised everything about her, from her pale, watery blue eyes to the way she purred the word 'Malcolm', and was more than pleased when Winters had grown bored of her.

"Since her departure, I have interviewed several potential replacements..."

"Yeah, I know. I arranged the appointments, remember?"

Malcolm looked surprised. "So you did. Well, I interviewed the potentials, and none really stood up to my admittedly impossibly high standards, and then it occurred to me- I could just give you the job!"

Harry narrowed his eyes skeptically. "You're joking."

The minister shook his head, a small, ambiguous smile playing on his handsome face. "Afraid not, my boy."

Harry laughed to cover his shock and creeping sense of dismay. "You realize I'm not qualified for the job-"

Winters waved his hand impatiently, as if that was just a tiny, insignificant detail. "I'm sure you know more spells- both offensive and defensive- than all of those idiots you sent me."

Harry felt a spark of annoyance at the comment. "They weren't idiots, Malcolm. I spent a week pre-interviewing them. Which is your job, by the way."

"That, son, not the point. You are the best assistant I have ever had, and I am sure you'll be an equally adequate bodyguard. You don't have to tell me your decision right now- think it over for as long as you like."

Harry turned away from the minister and they sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their drinks and staring at the expensive art on the walls. The Boy Who Lived knew it would be a mistake, would be downright foolish, to take the job; and yet he found himself beginning to think of how much better he would be at the job than Natalia ever was. And how he would get to go everywhere with Malcolm.

The minister traveled constantly, and Harry did not have the privilege of accompanying him. Winters already had other assistants waiting for him at his destination... but that was not the case with his solitary bodyguard. His heart began to beat faster. As his bodyguard, he would go almost everywhere Malcolm went. Including the trials he attended, as well as meetings with various special interest groups, the lawmaking sessions... Not even Lucius Malfoy, at the height of his control over Fudge, could do all of that. Everyday, Harry could go to work and look deep into the heart of the Ministry of Magic, and maybe, just maybe, have influence over it. Maybe even be Minister himself one day, when Malcolm inevitably went to far with his indiscretions. Wouldn't that be something, wouldn't that show everyone, the tabloid reporters, his fellow schoolmates, the Order...he would show them all.

Harry was surprised by his own ambition; but really, thinking ahead was not so bad. The dream of becoming an Auror had faded deep into the recesses of his mind; Malcolm had changed his outlook. The minister, seemingly, had everything; power, money, women... An image of Adriana drifted through his head. Surely, her dislike Winters would not shadow the pride she would have over such a promotion, and so soon after getting hired! Surely, she would be able to see how impressive it was that the most powerful man in the world had taken him under his wing, and jumpstarted his future political career. He would make something of himself, unlike Ron. His best friend was such a slacker, such a sycophant. He would probably end up with some dead end desk job, or, perhaps, end up working for Harry himself. Wouldn't that be something..?

Jesus where had that come from? He wished nothing but the best for Ron, hoped he would do well. And what of this 'promotion'? Twice the work at the same pay. And those thoughts of becoming minister. As if he would live long enough, as if Voldemort wouldn't have murdered him by then...

These thoughts depressed The Boy Who Lived, and he suddenly felt very tired. He wished, for the millionth time, that he were somebody else, someone normal. "I'm tired, Malcolm. I'd better get going," he said quietly. Tomorrow he would politely decline the job offer, and forever be the man's assistant...what a galling thought. Where would he be in ten years, he mused, still an assistant? Still unhappy? Still pining after Adriana, who would surely be married by then? An image of nieces and nephews paraded through his mind, with Ron's freckles and her dark hair. His eyes filled with hot tears of shame and regret, and he bowed his head down to hide them from the minister.

Malcolm reached out and clutched Harry's shoulder, worry filling his eyes. "Harry! What in the world is the matter?"

Harry just shook his head, tears streaming down his face, not trusting himself to speak.

The minister took the drink from the young wizard's hand and set it on the table, eyes never leaving his companion. He kept his grip on Harry's shoulder silently, looking gravely concerned. The Boy Who Lived felt comforted and embarrassed all at once, and attempted to choke down his emotions. "I-I'm fine," he managed before bursting into real, horrifying tears, before his nose began to run and his sobs grew louder and louder. Malcolm threw his arms around him, and he surrendered to the minister's stoic comfort.

He cried for what seemed like hours, feeling like a lost little boy that the world had turned its back on. Eventually, his sobs quieted, and Malcolm still held him as Harry sniffled ashamedly. It had been years since he had done anything like this, and he felt weak and silly.

"It's really eating you up, isn't it, Harry," Malcolm whispered in his ear.

The Boy Who Lived disengaged himself from the minister's embrace. "W-what d-do you mean?" he stammered, puffy red eyes full of confusion. "I've j-just...had a b-bad day..."

Malcolm shook his head pityingly. "The feelings you have for her are destroying you, Harry."

He thought about denying it, and realized the futility of such an action. It was true, what the minister said was the cold, hard truth. "How do you know? You're always interrogating me..."

Winters smiled sadly. "I've just wanted you to be honest with me, my boy. I've known for quite some time how you've felt, it's so...obvious, I'm surprised no one else yet knows. The way you look at her..." he laughed humorlessly. "Let's just say you could be a little bit more subtle."

"Y-you don't think I'm...a pervert, or something?"

"Please. I've slept with...Let's just say I shouldn't be the one to cast any stones."

Harry ran his fingers through his dark hair, a strange, panicky feeling beginning to wash over him. "_What am I supposed to do?_ I-I've felt like this forever, I swear to God, Malcolm, forever! I can't...I can't turn it off, I think about her all the time, I hate myself, I've almost...there was one time, we...I...almost...What am I supposed to do?" he finished, his last words more of a wail than anything else. Desperation had sent his emotions into a tailspin, and he barely noticed it when Malcolm rose from the couch and strode into another room.

"Relationships are all about control, Harry," he called from his destination. "And you've lost it in the one with her."

"Gee, thanks, Malcolm. Really helpful," The Boy Who Lived called back, suddenly angry. What was he thinking, crying like some baby on the man's couch? It was clear that Winters would contribute nothing to his situation.

"Now, now," Malcolm said with a smirk as he came back into the room, a small vial in his hands. He sank onto the couch comfortably next to Harry, his eyes twinkling.

"W-what's that, Minister?" Harry asked quietly, motioning to the glass vial. Later, he would realize he already knew.

"That, my boy, is something that will bring the control back to you." Malcolm sat it on the table, and it shone with surprising luster in the moonlight.

"No way," whispered The Boy Who Lived, suddenly feeling a strange sense of calm.

"Yes. My gift to you, Harry. The most powerful love potion in the world."

**End Chapter. **

**A/N- I quite like this chapter. Will he give it to her, will he not...hmm...**


	11. Beginning of the End

**Chapter 11: The Beginning of the End**

**A/N- This takes place a few weeks after chapter 10. Harry's been agonizing about whether or not to use the love potion Malcolm gave him in the previous chapter. **

Adriana sighed and stared at herself in the mirror, thinking about Severus Snape. She recalled how terrified she had felt upon being taken by the Dark Lord after they had tried to save Sirius, and how her terror had magnified when he had stepped into the room she had been kept in. It was a beautiful room, only fit for a princess, but she swiftly realized it was a gilded prison cell. It had been so strange, to be kept in luxury and fear all at the same time. When Severus had come, she had not known what to expect.

She sat slowly on the edge of her bed, running a brush through her thick hair, half smiling to herself. He had surprised her; he had spoken in soft, hushed tones, and attempted to comfort her in his awkward, strangly distanced way. Has anyone bothered you, that's what he had asked, has anyone bothered you. He knew perfectly well that Lucius Malfoy had been there a few hours earlier, and what he had done, she could see it in his fathomless eyes. So she told him no, no, nobody had bothered her. It was easier to lie to him, much easier than admitting what had happened. And then he pressed a small potions bottle into her cold hand, and thier fingertips touched; and he told her to drink it as soon as possible. It was all he could do, he whispered, all he could do, and then he shook his head in disgust. And then he turned to leave, and she grabbed his arm, clutched it, begging him not to leave her alone again, not in the horrible room, couldn't you stay for just a little while? How pathetic she must have sounded, how needy. He had looked down at her, into her shining eyes; and then he wrenched himself from her desperate grasp and was gone, out the door, and she stood there, clutching the potion, and willed herself not to cry. She had done enough of that already. Perhaps it's poison, she thought with a leap of her heart, perhaps he knows I'll never escape...this is an act of mercy.

She could die in her sleep...not in the Dark Lord's arms.

She drank it then, drank the foul tasting mixture until the last drop was gone.

But instead of death, something else washed over her; a strange fealing of detachment, a numbness...It was like a veil separeted her from her surroundings, like she was no longer there... and the next time she was summoned to Riddle's quarters, she felt no pain, and remained silent when he interogated her about the Order.

It had been so lovely, not to feel anything. So peaceful.

Severus returned several times with the potion, and only once she had cried. He held her as she sobbed, held her in his safe embrace, and he whispered, more to himself than the girl in his arms, that she looked too much like her mother.

Voldemort released her shortly after that, and his smugness had sent a feeling of dread sinking into her. Why should he be so happy, so eager to put her back in the Order's midst? What had he done to her, to make him so confident?

She realized shortly afterward that his physical abscence from her did not keep him from her mind.

He came to her in her dreams sometimes, and she remembered. She didn't like to remember.

She sighed at her reflection again. She wandered over to the old vanity Sirius had given to her and sat down comfortably on the shabby chair positioned in front of it. Adriana knew Harry was worried about her, worried about her hollow cheeks and increasingly shrinking form. She ate less, slept less- she was afraid to sleep, because of the dreams. She wished Severus was here, so he could make her that potion. She wished Harry wasn't spending so much time with the minister, so she could go to him, and he'd comfort her. He was probably sick of her, that's why he was gone so much. He was sick that she needed him so much, sick of how she constantly came to him in the night...

Harry was changing, getting worse everyday, and she couldn't reach out to him, couldn't reach out and comfort him, as he had done for her. He had suddenly become distant from her, as if he was hiding something, or... An idea, half formed, flitted through her mind... and then there was a knock at the door.

Hoping it was Harry, she glanced at herself critically in the mirror, running her fingers hastily through her hair. "Come in!" she called, pinching her cheeks to get some color.

"Hi," said her visitor, stepping in cautiously. "Free to talk?"

Her heart sank slightly. "Oh, Ron, it's you."

The redhead grinned. "Sorry to disapoint you. Expecting somebody else?"

"No, I...Well, I was hoping Harry..."

Ron's face fell as he took another step forward. "Nah. He's gone out again. He probably won't be back for a while yet."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

An awkward silence descended on them, and she watched with fascination at Ron's ears slowly turned red. He gave her a strained smile and motioned toward the bed. "Mind if I sit down?"

"What? Oh, sure, yeah. Go ahead."

He sat slowly and clasped his hands on his lap, turning slowly pink and doing his best not to examine her new yellow nightgown. It was pale, and somehow brought out the smooth creaminess of her skin, and made her strange eyes all the more piercing... and it clung all to well in all the right places. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Right," he started. She smiled at him encouragingly, which made his face go even redder. He stared at the ceiling as he continued. "Right. Well, Adriana, I came here to ask you something very important." He cleared his throat again and snuck a glance at her. She looked half frightened and half curious. " Right. As you know, I'm sure, I broke up with Hermione a few weeks ago, and she's not really talking to me anymore..."

"Yeah, I might have heard about that whole thing once or twice."

He let out a choking laugh and she smiled at him. He wasn't a bad guy, not really. She wondered why Harry barely spoke to him anymore, and realized Ron must be lonely without him. Just like she was.

"Right. Well, ah..." his heart hammered in his chest. "I just wanted to know if you, I dunno,wantedtogoforabutterbeersometime,or not, whatever, I just really like you..." His gaze returned to the ceiling as his face burned with embarassment. _'I just really like you?' Who says that? _

"Did you just ask me out on a _date_?"

He cringed. "Yeah. Sort of. If you don't want to, that's cool, I..."

She stopped listening to his nervous chatter as an image of Harry floated through her mind. She thought about the strange way she felt sometimes about him, when he hugged or kissed her...

"...and you know, I hope we can still be friends, that this won't change anything..."

It was stupid. Silly. Harry was just being a good brother, nothing more. She was just confused. And he had been so distant lately. Besides, Ron was kind of sweet.

Ron continued his small rant, staring at the ceiling the entire time. "...it'd be no pressure, just go for a butterbeer or something like that, or whatever you want..."

She rose from her seat, decision made, and to his amazement, kissed him on the cheek. He stared in awe at her as she grinned down at him. "Going for a butterbeer would be just lovely. Tomorrow, maybe...at 2 o' clock?"

His brain felt like it had frozen over. "Two? Two's fine! Just fine! Just great!" He leapt up from the bed, praying that he wouldn't trip, face ablaze. She giggled. He resisted the urge to grab her and kiss her right then and there as she walked him to the door.

Adriana couldn't quite believe she had just accepted to go on a date with Ron, Ron Weasley of all people; he completly went against her type; but he would be good for her, she decided. She was so lonely, so separated from everyone else, and he was kind of cute, and funny, and sweet. They would have fun together. He turned to her in the hallway and grinned from ear to ear at her. "Maybe we could catch breakfast in the morning too, there's a great new place in Hogsmeade. You could wear that new dress you bought last week..."

"Oh, I don't know if I can wear that, I can't really pull off patterns that well..."

He shook his head and smiled down at her. "You'll look beautiful." He sounded so confident, and his eyes were so warm and happy...He really liked her, she realized. He really wanted to get to know her better.

She blushed and she ran her fingers through her hair. "Alright. We can leave in the morning," she said shyly.

He leaned forward and kissed her lingeringly on the cheek. "Can't wait," he whispered in her ear. Then he Disapparated with a loud crack, and she felt strangly pleased that he had been showing off for her. Everything seemed lighter, and more far away as she sat back in front of the mirror. She smiled and her reflection smiled back warmly. This would be good. This would be moving on from what had happened. She began brushing her long black hair again, humming.

"Hey."

She let out a startled gasp and whirled around, heart pounding in her chest. "Oh, Harry!" She pressed a hand to her heart. "You scared me! What's wrong?"

Her big brother just stood there, in the middle of the room, dressed in what seemed to be his new uniform: black pants, black shirt. His uncontrollable hair stood up at all angles and he ran his long fingers through it, hard; his eyes blazed as he stared at her. When he spoke, he seemed to choke out every syllable, as if he was trying not to yell at her. "What was Ron doing in here?"

She felt herself shrink back in her chair at his tone.

"Well? What WAS HE FUCKING DOING IN HERE?"

She rose from her seat, hands shaking. "N-nothing-"

"DON'T TELL ME NOTHING! WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE DOING IN HERE AT ONE IN THE MORNING?" He grabbed her arm and dragged her to him, fingernails digging painfully into her skin. He stared down at her, and clutched her arm harder as she tried to pull away. A memory came to her suddenly, and it felt like a punch to the gut as she remembered that the Dark Lord had grabbed her one night in the exact same way. Tears came unbidden to her eyes as she felt a familiar panic bubble up within her.

"Let me go-"

"ANSWER ME! WHY WAS HE KISSING YOU?" His voice lowered suddenly, and he narrowed his eyes, and she realized he'd been drinking. Lately, he had been coming home drunk more and more, almost every night. Thoughtlessly, his grasp on her arm tightened, and his nails broke her pale skin as he brought his face closer to hers. She barely felt the pain as his lips brushed her cheek. "You know," he whispered huskily, "If I had known that you were so undiscriminating with who you let in your bedroom..." She smelled the reek of whiskey on his breath as she felt his his other hand's fingertips slowly travel up her thigh.

She slapped him then, as hard as she could, and he stumbled back. "How dare you," she hissed as she wrenched herself from his loosened grip. She stared down at the crescent shaped cuts on her arm, stared at the blood welling up to the surface, refusing to think about the little thrill she had felt at his touch. She looked back up at him. "_You're worse than Voldemort_," she whispered, devastated. "_You're worse than the Dark Lord_." And it was true, she thought, sickened. Riddle had never looked at her with such rage, such...what was it? Hate? Anger? No, she thought slowly, it was something else. Something worse.

Harry stared blankly at her. "Adriana," he began slowly. "I-"

"Leave," she managed to choke out, folding her arms across her chest so he wouldn't see how her hands shook. "Just leave."

He shook his head and reached out for her, as if he was going to hug her. "Adriana, please, I need to-"

"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" she screamed, the panic finally surfacing. "GET OUT! GET OUT!"

He retreated then, and slammed the door behind him.

When she was sure he wasn't going to come back in, Adriana burst into tears.

**End Chapter.**

**A/N- Ah, young love. Gee, that love potion would really come in handy, now, wouldn't it...**

**I don't believe what Harry did was out of character- he was drunk, under a lot of stress, and you can only hold in your feelings for so long before they manifest themselves in a negative way. **


	12. Have a Drink With Me

**Have A Drink With Me**

**A/N: If anybody's confused about the timeline, this story takes place during the months following the end of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. He's already turned seventeen. **

_"Happy Birthday to you,_

_Happy Birthday to you,_

_Happy Birthday dear Adriana,_

_Happy Birthday to you!"_

"Let me give her my present first!"

"Goodness, Ron, let her pick what she wants herself."

"Aww, come on, she'll love mine...There you go..."

"Oh, Ron! You shouldn't have!"

"I know. But you deserve it."

"Wow, son, are those real rubies?"

"Oh, Ron, _thank you..."_

Harry gritted his teeth. Her sixteenth birthday festivities were in full swing, and he clutched her present in his moist palms.

"Oh, I'm having trouble with the clasp..."

"Here, let me...there we go..."

"Oh, Ron, it's so pretty, you really shouldn't have..."

Harry supposed they were dating now. He couldn't be sure; he hadn't talked to either of them in the last few weeks. She refused to even look at him. The thought of never speaking to her again was gut clenching. He snuck a glance at her.

She was opening Hermione's present, which would inevitably be a book...

She looked happy, the heart shaped locket embedded with rubies that Ron just gave her hanging around her comely neck...

"Wow, Hermione, how in the world did you remember me saying I wanted this...?"

He sighed. They were all gathered around the dinner table at the Burrow, and streamers were flying everywhere. Mad Eye, every one of the Weasley's except Charlie, Lupin, Tonks...they were all here, all happy for her, all blessedly distracted from the outside world for a few precious hours. And she looked so beautiful, hair in curls, wearing a new red dress... Ignoring him, ignoring his presence as if his seat was taken by nothing but cool air.

He wiped his palms on his jeans and looked down at his present. The lime green wrapping paper was wrinkled and ripped; he had applied it to the present months before. He'd been positive when he had purchased it that she would absolutely love it... Now he wasn't so sure. He swallowed nervously.

He didn't quite realize it, but he was making the decision.

He glanced up and caught Lupin's eye.

Remus winked at him, and he smiled half heartedly back.

"What'd Harry give you, luv?" George asked, grinning at her. He took a swig of one of the dozens of bottles of butterbeer strewn across the table and patted her on the back.

Her smile dissipated and she shrugged. "I dunno," she said carelessly, hand wandering to her new necklace.

He rose slowly and cautiously extended the present in his hand in her direction, staring at the table the entire time. "Here. Hope you like it." His voice quivered, and the room went silent. They knew, they sensed the sudden tension.

She said nothing as she returned her attention to unwrapping his gift. He remained standing, the back of his neck prickling, wondering why nobody was talking.

She lifted the small black velvet box out of the shredded paper formally.

She opened it and stared at its contents quietly, expressionless.

Her present was a ring, a silver ring fashioned by goblins centuries before, and she lifted it out of its container with an odd look in her eyes. The entire room gasped as it shone in the light. It was small, a woman's ring, and crafted in the shape of a snake with emerald eyes. Clearly priceless, clearly a reference to the bond they shared, both being Parselmouths.

"It's beautiful, Harry. Thank you," she said quietly, staring resolutely at his chin. She placed the ring back in its box as he turned and left the room.

Turned at the hall, and out the door.

Fuck Voldemort, if he was going to try to capture him, _bring it._

Fuck everything, fuck Ron, fuck her...

_Yeah, you wish. _

He choked back tears as he covered his face with his hands, barely feeling the cold autumn air on his face. _'What's wrong with me...?'_

"Harry! Wait!"

He turned, and Remus was striding toward him, looking angry.

"_What is the matter with you, just running out in the open like that? _The Dark Lord-"

Harry lifted his left hand. "Save it. I just needed some fresh air, okay? And besides, I don't see legions of Death Eaters ready to grab me anywhere, do you?"

Lupin shook his graying head angrily. "Just because they're not instantly-"

"Stop treating me like a child, Lupin! I can take care of myself, okay? God knows I've been doing it for the last seventeen years, I think I'm good at it!"

Remus looked tired as he stared the handsome young man before him. "Do not speak to me like that again, Harry. I know you think you are better than everyone else, what with your new job-"

"What is that supposed to mean? What, just because I'm making something of myself, unlike _you_-"

"Do not- do not- presume to think you know anything about me! How dare you? How could you choose _Winters,_ Malcolm Winters of all people, over everyone who has ever loved you?"

"I haven't-"

"Look at you. You are never around anymore, you've pushed away your best friends, Mrs. Weasley, why, even your own sister-"

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! WHY DON'T YOU MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS?"

"DO NOT SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT-"

Harry shook his head, heart pounding. "You know what? I'm out. I can't take it anymore."

Remus looked stunned. "What do you mean?"

"The Order. Just...everything. I'm out. You can still use Grimmauld Place as headquarters, but...don't expect me to help out, okay? Don't...I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's got to be this way." He shook his head again, unable to bring himself to look back at Lupin. "I've got to go...I'll be back tonight, I'll tell everyone then. Bye."

He turned and walked away then, down the street, and ignored Remus's cries of his name.

* * *

When he came back later that night, she was in her room, folding her clothes and stuffing them into a suitcase on her bed.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

She barely glanced up at his words. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing."

He felt a lump rise in his throat as he spoke. "_Why _are you packing?"

She slipped on a gray sweater as she replied. "I'm leaving. I asked Mrs. Weasley today and she said it was alright if I stayed with them for a while." She finally looked up at him, her seafoam eyes hollow. "Mrs. Weasley said she could home school all of us, so that's taken care of."

"I could home school you, I know more about-"

"I don't want to hear what you know more about. I'm leaving in fifteen minutes."

She turned to him, arms folded across her chest, bottom lip quivering. He so wanted to reach out to her, run his fingers through her shining hair...

"Don't do this. Please. Just...stay, we'll work things out, what I did was-"

Her eyes welled up with tears as she shook her head. "I...I don't think that's a very good idea, Harry."

"Why not? Please, come on, it's been horrible these last few weeks, not talking, I-" he paused, heart beating a drum in his chest, wondering if he should finally just tell her the way he felt. As if she didn't know, after what he had done, anyway...

Adriana stared at him, tears threatening to spill as she spoke. "Let's not make a scene, okay? It's not like I'm going off to the other side of the world, we can still visit..."

"_Visit? _You're my sister, you're not some distant relative that I don't even-"

"It's the best thing for both of us, Harry. You...you've changed..._I've_ changed...We need to figure things out for ourselves, I think, you know?"

"What if I don't think its best, you can't just make a decision like that for both of us, and what do you mean, I've changed? How the f- how've I changed?" _'Don't say it...Please, don't say it...'_

"How do you think? Ever since..._whenever_, you've been so angry, so distant...You keep, you keep lashing out, you keep drinking, you're never around anymore, and I just..." she blinked rapidly. "I just don't want to be here anymore."

He clenched his jaw. "Well, if that's the way you feel about it..."

She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder as she buckled her suitcase. "It is."

As she lifted her luggage off the bed and made her way to the door, he suddenly reached out and touched her wrist gently. "Look, let's not end things like this..." He avoided her gaze as he lifted the two butterbeers out of his jacket pocket. He hoped she wouldn't notice that one of them had already been opened.

"Come on, what do you say? Have a drink with me?"

**End Chapter. **

**A/N- **


	13. Tell Me You Love Me

**Chapter 13: Tell Me You Love Me**

Harry woke with a start from his nightmare, heart pounding. He sat up in his bed and looked around, forgetting for a moment where he was.

"What's wrong?" asked Adriana sleepily, her soft voice cutting through the fog circling in his mind.

He shook his head and looked at her, trying to discern her features in the darkness of his bedroom. "Nothing," her whispered. "Go back to sleep."

"Did you have a nightmare?"

He sighed tiredly, running his hands over his face. "Yeah."

She sat up and gently placed her hand on his arm, looking concerned, her silver ring glinting in the moonlight. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I've forgotten it already," he lied, grateful she could not see his face clearly. She had always had a knack for knowing when he was being dishonest.

"Why don't you lay back down?" she asked, and he felt her cool lips graze his naked shoulder. "We don't have to go back to sleep..."

He glanced at her and held her seafoam gaze, wishing her eyes didn't look so glassy. It was the one physical side effect of the potion; Harry hated it. It seemed to him that her eyes were constantly filled with tears.

He suddenly took her face in both hands, staring intently into her shining eyes. She looked calmly back at him, smiling gently.

"Tell me you're in love me," he said quietly.

"I'm in love with you," she whispered in reply, gazing at him adoringly.

"Tell me you want me."

"_I've always wanted you." _She leaned forward and kissed him then, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he kissed her back, hating himself.

* * *

The first weeks had been amazing; Harry could not put his finger on exactly when things had gone wrong. Had it been when she had brushed off Ron, and he had looked so wounded? No, he had been practically gleeful at that...Had it been when she moved back in...No, that's what he had wanted all along...

When, then?

Was he _guilty?_

It was true, she was different. But was that such a bad thing, really? She was happier, wasn't she? She didn't have nightmares anymore, did she? And wasn't it correct that even Mad-Eye had commented on how cheerful she had become?

It was those eyes, those damned eyes... always so glazed, so vacant...

_Shake it off, _he thought to himself. _This is what you've always wanted. Enjoy it. _Perhaps he was overexaggerating the effects in his mind, nothing more. Nobody else noticed them, why should he? And he'd eventually stop administering the potion eventually, after she had grown to love him all on her own. Then they could run away together, perhaps to America, and be happy, forsaking everything else but each other... He smiled at the thought. Voldemort's death would set them free.

"What are you thinking about?" She smiled coyly and reached for the Daily Prophet he was reading at the breakfast table. Nobody else was there but them, and he was glad he left the Order. He had never been an official member anyway. Everyone would start trickling in later in the day, after he went to work.

He grinned wolfishly up at her as she snatched the paper from his hands and settled herself onto his lap, encircling him with her slender arms. "You," he whispered in her ear, inhaling her lavender scent, running his hands over her smooth skin. "_Only you_."

* * *

Ron Weasley didn't know what to do with himself.

Everything had been going so well, they had gone on a handful of dates, he had saved and saved every last Knut to pay for that necklace, and then... this. She wasn't angry at him, as far as he could tell, in fact she was had been quite cordial when he had tried to talk with her. But she gave back the necklace, told him she didn't feel the same way, and smiled. _Smiled. _And Harry had been watching with such a strange look on his face... And now he was alone, again.

Ron didn't really consider himself a very reflective person, but he really thought he had been taking a new step in the right direction with Adriana. He like Hermione, but he found out too late he didn't feel the same way about her she felt about him. He had been lonely, and Hermione hadn't taken that away... but Adriana had. He felt better with her around, and she encouraged him to apply for a job at the Ministry. He was well aware from long discussions with his father that the place was rank with corruption, but there were still Aurors that were true to the cause, and he applied for the post as a sort of assistant to an Auror. He couldn't afford the formal classes to become one, and he saw the assistant's job as a stepping stone toward his goal. His father had assured him that he was just the sort of person they were looking for, and the Minister himself chose the final canidate. With Harry as the man's assistant, he was practically guaranteed to land the post.

And then she broke up with him, and he recieved his rejection letter.

His first instinct at having read the letter was to confront Harry and demand to know what had happened, why his best friend hadn't come through for him... but then his mother told him that Harry probably didn't even know about his application, that was the assistant's job, and he was assistant no longer. Ron had forgotten about that in his excitement, forgotten how Harry had already been promoted to bodyguard. Now all The Boy Who Lived seemed to do was have his nose in a book, learning the hundreds of spells that would be necessary to perform his job effectively. Ignoring everybody else but Adriana.

She had never told Ron why she had been so angry with her brother, and now they had made up. What had he done? They had always been so close, what could he have possibly done?

He sighed and willed himself to get out of the bed. It was useless to think about these things, they were in the past. He stared vacantly at his door and barely noticed Ginny enter.

"Hey," she said with a little half smile. "You okay?"

A number of responses flew through his brain, but he settled on a brief "Fine."

She shut the door behind her as she spoke. "You don't look fine. You want to talk about...stuff?"

"Not really."

She looked annoyed. "You know, I understand what you're going through. In case you've forgotten, I've had my heart broken by a Potter too."

He looked down at his quilt, wondering when it had gotten so worn. "I guess I did forget."

They remained in silence for a while, until Ginny flung a shirt at him, hitting square in the face. "Well, get dressed, lazy, and let's go to breakfast."

* * *

"I think they're both just at wierd places in thier lives, you know? I think when Lord V-Voldemort is vanquished things will be different."

Ron picked at his runny eggs with his fork, kicking himself for letting Ginny pick the resturaunt. "You really think so?"

Ginny nodded, sipping her orange juice and placing it back on the tarnished tabletop. "Yeah," she said with a small smile. "I really do."

Ron suddenly went white and Ginny looked alarmed. "What? What is it?"

"Hey Ron, Ginny. Didn't expect to see you two!" Adriana smiled widely at them both, revealing her even white teeth. The weather was near freezing, and she was a vision in her long white coat and hat, her cheeks pink from the cold. "Mind if I join you?"

Ginny glanced at Ron, who's ears were slowly starting to turn crimson. "Uh, no," she said, surprised that Adriana was even speaking to her. She indicated the seat next to her. "Go ahead," she smiled, a plan forming in her mind.

"Thanks." She sat herself down and motioned for the waitress, romoving white gloves from her slender fingers.

Ron stared at her left hand, an odd expression on his face as she examined the menu. "Hmm," she said, looking mildly annoyed. "Nothing really looks good. But, Harry loves their treacle tarts, and he said their candied damsons are good, so I suppose I'll get that." She sat down the menu and smiled at them. "So, what are we talking about?" she asked cheerfully.

Ginny frowned. Too cheerfully. "We were actually just talking about Harry," she replied, wondering what was different about the girl next to her.

Adriana's face fell slightly as she stared at the youngest Weasley. "Oh? Still pining after him?"

"_Excuse me_?"

"I'm sorry, was that offensive? I didn't mean anything by it. But seriously, sweetheart, you really need to find someone else to obsess over. Now you're just getting pathetic."

Ginny felt hot anger clench her guts as she replied. "First of all, don't call me sweetheart, second of all, just who do you think you are?" She glanced at Ron, who looked like he had just seen a ghost. No help there.

"Really, Ginny, I'm just trying to help you out. It's so obvious that Harry doesn't feel that way, maybe you should just let go?"

"God, your acting like a..."

Adriana cocked her head, blinking shining eyes. "Like a what, love?"

"Never mind. Maybe you should leave."

The girl next to her flipped her hair and Ginny caught a glint of emarard as she put her gloves back on. "Fine," she said, rising. "Bye, Ron."

Ron didn't reply as she left, her white coat billowing in the harsh wind.

"What's wrong with you?" Ginny asked him, after a swig of her juice.

"Didn't you see what was on her hand?"

"Obviously not."

Ron narrowed his eyes as he stared at her. "She was wearing that ring that Harry gave her for her birthday. You know, the one she said she'd throw away if it wasn't so expensive."

"Huh."

"Yeah. What were you going to say to her?"

"What? Oh, it was stupid."

"Come on. I'm sure you've said loads of stupider things."

"Thanks. Really. I was going to say...well, I was going to say she was acting like a jealous girlfriend, if you want to know the truth."

"That's not stupid. That's true," he whispered, stricken. "That's true."

A plan began to form in his mind.

* * *

"Ah, Harry, my boy, it's good to see you." Malcolm gripped his shoulder and smiled at him, looking deep into his emarald eyes. "We have much to discuss, you and I."

Harry felt an odd sensation develop in the pit of his stomach, memories of his pleasant morning fading from his mind. "Oh?"

Malcolm indicated the seat in front of his desk and sat in his own chair, staring at The Boy Who Lived as he sank himself into the seat. "Yes, my boy. Tell me, how have things been going for you? You seem happier."

Harry swallowed, feeling ill at ease. "I am," he replied carefully.

The minister cocked his head, examining him. "You look better," he said, his tone unreadable. "Your jacket suits you."

Harry frowned. His jacket was expensive, dragon hide; dyed black with a small snake on the shoulder. It had been a gift from Adriana. "Thanks." _Just say whatever you're going to say, Malcolm,_ he thought silently. _You're making me nervous. _

"Wherever did you get it? I may want one for myself."

"It was a gift."

"Ah. From whom?"

Harry shifted in his seat, beginning to feel angry. "What does it matter?" he demanded. "What are we really talking about here?"

Malcolm smiled thinly. "The potion is working, I assume."

"Yes..."

"And you are happy."

"Yeah, I am. Thanks. Thank you for the potion, and everything. Life's been better." His heart rate gradually began to turn to normal. Maybe all Malcolm wanted was his thanks, he thought hopefully.

The minister looked thoughtful. "I am glad for you, my boy. At least one of us is happy."

"What do you mean?"

Malcolm shrugged expressively. "My life, Harry, is growing a bit difficult. I see people whisper about me...They are planning something. I can trust no one, no one but you."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "They've been talking about you since the first day you came, Malcolm, and you're just now realizing it?"

"Ah, but then, their words meant nothing. The people loved me, Harry. But now...certain individuals are turning the magical community against me, and godammit, I will not tolerate it! They can gossip about my affairs all they want, but this is going to far!"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Malcolm ignored him.

"Don't think I don't hear them. And I know who is behind it. The Order."

Harry stared at him. Malcolm stared back. "You left the Order, didn't you, Harry."

"Yes. And you're right, they are trying to turn the people against you. They don't trust you, and they don't trust me, anymore." He felt his throat begin to swell up at his words. He hadn't realized how much that fact had affected him. "And," he continued, willing his voice steady, "There is nothing you can do about it."

Malcolm rose and walked quietly over to the window, head bowed. He stared out onto the bustling street, his eyes dark. "That is not entirely true," he said, an odd edge in his voice. He turned to Harry, another one of his smiles playing on his lips. He reached out to Harry, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder.

_No. No. _

"You owe me, Harry. And I think it is time I called for payment of your debts."

**End Chapter.**

**A/N- You know how Adriana said, "I've always wanted you." ? That will be important...or not. Anyway, the next chapter is already written. Please Review! **


	14. You Are My Son

**Chapter 14: You Are My Son**

**A/N- Sorry about how short this one is. I guess I could have combined this with 13, but I felt like it deserved it's own chapter. **

**Disclaimer- Not mine. **

"No need for that. They will learn to trust you, my son."

"I will not spy on the Order. And I'm not your son, Malcolm."

"You may as well be! Look at you. We are the same, you and I. You are just like me, ruthless, ambitious, powerful...you are everything I am, and I have made you that way! I have created this new you, molded you into what you are now, we may not be blood, my boy, but you are my son!"

Harry shook his head. "You're wrong, Malcolm! I'm not like that, I'm…" he trailed off, suddenly afraid.

"Oh, really. Then tell me, what is this?"

Harry stared at Ron's application, crumpled, dug up from the trash, clutched in Malcolm's smooth hands.

"Why don't you tell your little friend you are none of those things? Imagine how pleased I was to find out that my protégé wiped away the career of another just because he felt like it. I did the same when I was your age, you know." He chuckled. "I would have hired him, too, just to annoy you."

Harry remembered his feeling of savage triumph when he had thrown Ron's application away. He had projected Ron's heartbroken face before his eyes and smiled.

"I did it because I was jealous, it was a stupid thing to do, but that doesn't mean-"

"Jealous? Ah, yes, that is when you were having difficulties with your sister. Tell me, how is that going now? Is she everything you thought she would be?" He smiled widely, exultant. He had found the chink in Harry's armor, his weakness. The weakness he could exploit until the end of days.

Harry's mouth moved, but no sound came out. It all suddenly became hideously clear; the minister was going to use him.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

He thought he had been clever; thought that it was _he _who was going to use the minister to achieve his goals. He shook his head, the last few months replaying in his mind. "Why?" he asked emptily. "Why are you doing this? Are you in league with him, is that it? You and Voldemort planned this from the beginning, didn't you."

Malcolm threw back his head and let out a barking laugh. "Silly boy," he said, still chuckling. "Voldemort could never think of my plan. He has no idea how you feel about your sister, unless you and he chatted about it over tea."

The dream of Voldemort laughing at him wafted before Harry's eyes. So there was something Malcolm didn't know, he thought. He remained silent as the minister continued.

"The Dark Lord thinks merely in two dimensions, Harry. He is too focused on you, does not take into account other factors. Factors like me. He will fall, that much is certain. Who will take his place...well, that is still unclear."

Harry looked up at him, anger beginning to course through his viens, hot and red. "So you intend to replace him, then."

Malcolm shrugged. "Perhaps." A small smile played on his lips. Harry snapped.

"You fucker!"

"Now, Harry, no need for that language."

"You manipulated me this whole time!"

"Ah, see, that, my boy, is where you are mistaken. Everything that has happened- everything, from taking the bodyguard position to giving your lovely sister that potion has been _your_ choice. Yours. It isn't my fault that you haven't thought things completely through."

"I'll kill you. I'll kill you."

Malcolm laughed. "Fine, kill me. Then, who'll provide you with your precious love potion? Oh, wait, _nobody._"

"Fuck you. I can make my own."

"Teenagers are so cute. My boy, there is a reason that the potion I gave you is the most coveted in the world. You see-" he chuckled. "Pardon me. You see, once somebody has taken that- why, they are almost completely immune to all others similar to it! You could no more make a proper potion than I could sprout wings and fly." He smirked. "Actually, the wings are probably a bit more likely."

"This whole time...I don't care. I'll..."

"Wake up! Wake up, you stupid little boy! Have I not given you everything you lacked? Power? Influence? The one woman you knew you could never have? Is it really unreasonable for me to expect a few things in return?"

"What..._what do you want_?"

"Firstly, I want you to call me _sir,_ you understand?"

"Yes. _Sir."_

_"_Hmm. We'll have to work on that tone. Now, to business. I have a few things I would like done. Here." He slid a small picture to The Boy Who Lived.

"What the fuck is...Oh. God."

"I would like them...taken care of. I'm sure you understand my meaning, yes?"

"No, no, no way, Malcolm! Not...I can't do that!" 

"Really, for a young man who was just threatening bodily harm on my person, you are being surprisingly weak kneed about this, Harry. It's really a simple job, I am well aware of your capability of executing the Killing Curse. It will be swift, painless; they would be better off dead, at any rate."

"No, no, no! Not the Longbottoms. Why the fuck do you want them dead anyway? What have they fucking done to you?"

"My my, we certainly are foulmouthed tonight, aren't we? My motivations are irrevelant. Do it. Tonight."

"No. No way."

"Fine then. What shall you tell your sister when those last drops you gave her wear off?"

"I-"

"Oh, not to worry. I'm sure she'll forgive you. In fact, I'll bet she'll say, '_Oh, Harry, I don't mind! I loved fucking my own brother every night!'" _

Harry shook his head. "You...you..."

"You teenagers are all the same. Take, take, take! You know everything! You don't ever realize that things have consequences, that you have to pay for your actions."

Harry stared down at the picture of Neville Longbottom's parents smiling up at him. Then he pictured to look on Adriana's face when the potion wears off. "What time?" he whispered.

"I knew you'd listen to reason. As soon as possible. It must be quick."

"The potion?"

"I'll have it for you the moment you return successfully."

"Fine." Harry rose and exited the room.

Malcolm laughed.

**End Chapter. **

**A/N- Please review and tell me what you thought! **


	15. To the Future

-1

**Chapter 15: To the Future**

The murders had been easy, the Longbottoms being defenseless. Two flashes of light and they were on the floor, lifeless eyes staring vacantly. He left as quickly and smoothly as he came in, and no one saw him. He wondered what was wrong with him, why he didn't feel guilty.

"What's wrong?" Adriana rose from their bed and made her way across her room, seeing the way his shoulders sagged, feeling the emotions swirling inside of him. Her nightgown was sheer and pink; new, he thought as she hugged him. "Harry? You're frightening me..." she trailed off and kept her arms around him, face buried in his chest. Her words were muffled as she spoke. "You know you can tell me anything," she whispered.

He let his eyes wander around the room, to the lamp, the table, the bed. She had obviously been awake, reading; her book lay open on the bed. Waiting for him, wondering why he was late. She must have been so worried, he thought emptily. He wondered how he looked, if what he had done somehow showed on his face. It must, he thought.

"Harry?"

He detangled himself from her embrace and removed his jacket, folding it neatly and placing it on the table. She had given to him a week ago; it seemed a year. He unbottoned the first button on his shirt and loosened his collar tiredly. She stood staring at him, waiting for a cue on what to do. He sat on the bed and patted the place next to him, smiling sadly at her. She came over to him, sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

His words almost caught in his throat as he spoke. "I did something tonight," he began, his voice trembling. "Something bad."

She clutched his arm. "It's alright," she whispered.

He shook his head, his eyes beginning to fill with hot tears. "No it's not," he choked out. He bent over and held his head in his hands, the enormity of his situation slowly sinking in. He was trapped, trapped, and there was no way out. There was nothing he could do, nothing but obey Malcolm's every whim. She ran her hands over his back comfortingly, whispering nothings into his ear. "I killed tonight," he said quietly. Adriana kissed his cheek, ran her fingers through his damp hair.

"It's okay," she said into his ear. "Tell me what happened."

Harry suddenly did not want to talk, did not want to give voice to his actions. He shook his head. "Later."

"Alright," she said. "But whatever you did..." He turned to her, studied her earnest face, feeling her skin against his. "Whatever you did, Harry, it doesn't make you make you bad person, you understand? It doesn't-" Harry kissed her passionately then, cutting her off; she sighed into it, wrapping her arms around him. This was what he had sacrificed everything for, he thought as she tugged off his shirt. This is what I have killed for. She unfastened his belt and her words echoed in his mind. "_...it doesn't make you a bad person, you understand?" _

_No, I don't understand, _he thought as he pulled her nightgown over her head, reveling in the feeling of her skin against his. _I don't understand at all. _

* * *

Malcolm greeted him with a smile and a small potions bottle the next morning. "Harry, my boy, you look so well rested! There you are," he added, pushing the bottle over his desk toward him. "As promised."

Harry pocketed the bottle. "Thanks," he said curtly. It felt heavy in his pocket.

The minister indicated the chair in front of him. "Sit."

Harry sat. His handsome face was unreadable as Malcolm studied him. "You and I need to talk about the future, Harry," he said quietly. The Longbottoms were just the beginning."

Harry nodded. "The Order." He felt a wave of emotion and suppressed it, locked it away. There was nothing he could do, he told himself, nothing.

Winters looked pleased. "Yes. They are getting stronger...and more difficult. I underestimated them... You must regain their trust, and quickly. Time is running out."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Malcolm smiled coldly. "Just what I said, Harry. Voldemort is planning his next attack, and this one will be on the ministry itself. He will be victorious; I will still be minister, serving him... but the Order will complicate matters. They must be neutralized, and quickly. Their support is widespread."

"So you _are_ working with Voldemort."

Malcolm inclined his head. "Yes. He believes I am loyal to him... He will pay for that mistake, do not worry."

"What do you plan do after his defeat? And how are you planning that, by the way?"

Another smile. His sapphire eyes sparkled as he spoke. "Why, you will kill him, of course. I know all about the prophecy."

Harry was gob smacked. "How did you know about that?"

Malcolm chuckled to himself. The Dark Lord told me about it, obviously."

"How the hell does he know about it?"

"Your sister told him, of course," seeing the expression on Harry's face, he elaborated. "Not willingly, I'm afraid. She was tortured early and often, sadly. Such a pretty girl," he mused to himself. "So sad. She was eventually given some truth serum. Loyal to you to the end. Touching, isn't it?"

The Boy Who Lived stared at him. "What else did she tell him?" he whispered through cold lips.

"What? Oh, lots of things." Malcolm looked out the window thoughtfully. "I'll give this to him, he is clever. The questions he asked... Well, her answers have proved very useful, very useful indeed." He sounded infuriatingly vague.

"Why were they useful?" he demanded.

Malcolm waved his hand impatiently. "Later, my son, later. That isn't important now. The Order-"

"No! Why were her answers useful, Minister? What did he ask her? And when were you going to tell me?"

Winters looked faintly amused. "What, you haven't spoken to her about any of this? She is putty in your hands, under that potion. You really haven't asked her about what happened, have you?"

Harry shifted in his seat, unsettled. "No. I've thought about it, but..." _But I was too scared. Too scared to share her pain. Coward. _

"But you really don't want to know, do you."

Harry gave him a brief nod. "No, I don't."

Malcolm smiled at him indulgently. "That's understandable. I would not want to know if I were in your position, either. Life is more simple the less we know. Wouldn't you agree?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess."

Winters leaned back in his seat. "We'll discuss this later," he commanded with an air of finality. "I have an idea concerning the Order."

* * *

"Remus? Can we talk?"

Lupin looked up from the map of the ministry into Harry's apologetic, slightly terrified face. "Of course," he replied, surprised and pleased. Maybe there was hope for the boy after all. Harry sat in front of him cautiously, looking down at his lap. This had to be convincing.

"Remus," he began.

His former professor smiled gently at him. "Yes, Harry?"

The Boy Who Lived felt his insides squirm unpleasantly as he spoke. Lupin didn't deserve this, the Order didn't deserve this. But it was necessary, he reminded himself. "Remus, I just wanted to tell you...you were right. I let my job at the Ministry cloud my judgment, and I couldn't see the minister for what he was. But now I do," he said contritely. "And I'm sorry. For everything." He had rehearsed the speech over and over again, and he felt nervous as Lupin stared at him. Surely he wouldn't fall for this.

But the man nodded and reached out, clutched his hand; Harry resisted the urge to slide it away. "It's alright, Harry," he said, his eyes forgiving. The young wizard had forgotten how old Lupin looked, how tired. His palm was warm against the back of his hand. "I understand. The minister is very seductive and charismatic...I know you had the best of intentions, working for him. I'm sorry it didn't work out the way it should have."

Harry swallowed. "Yeah," he replied, wishing Lupin would take his hand away. He did his best to look determined as he spoke. "But I have a way to make it up to you, to make it up to all of you."

Remus looked interested. "Oh?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Malcolm- I mean, the minister- he trusts me. He tells me things he shouldn't, awful things... Things that would be very useful to the Order." He looked up at Lupin's kind face, and resisted the urge to throw himself onto the table and beg for the forgiveness he knew he didn't deserve.

"Harry, what are you saying?"

"What do you think I'm saying?" he snapped back, more angrily then intended. "Like I said, he trusts me. I could spy on him for the Order, couldn't I? Some of the things he does... He could get arrested, but nobody knows about any of it! Nobody but me," he added, suddenly calm.

Remus looked intrigued. The Order already knew a great deal about Malcolm's dealings, more than Harry and the minister thought they did; but he was pleased with The Boy Who Lived's surprising peace offering. He really did want to make amends. He nodded with a smile. "It's a good idea, Harry. I'll discuss it with Mad-Eye... You're in a very unique and useful position, and it would be foolish of us to waste it. Thank you, son. I knew you'd come back to us."

Harry felt his stomach lurch at the word 'son' and slid his hand away from Lupin's grasp. "So that's yes?" he managed, rising.

Remus nodded up at him. "Well, not officially," he replied with a grin. "But yes, it's a yes. How about a drink, to celebrate your triumphant return to the Order of the Phoenix?"

An odd look flitted across Harry's face; Remus frowned. It looked quite a bit like fear.

But then The Boy Who Lived smiled warmly and Lupin relaxed, smiling, and patted him on the back.

"Sure," the young wizard said. "I can't think of anything I'd rather do, Remus."

Kreacher brought them firewhiskey, and Lupin raised his glass. "To the future," he said.

He raised his and echoed the man's words. "To the future." They drank together, and Remus didn't notice how Harry's eyes had suddenly gone cold.

* * *

"Adriana! Hey, wait up!"

She turned to face him, looking bored. Hermione's voice echoed in his mind. _'It depends on what type of potion she took. But if she was given the one I think she was, her eyes...let me see... her eyes will... it says 'glitter madly'. Hmmm...' _she had looked up at him then, looking sad. _'You really think Harry is capable of doing something like that?'_

Well, her eyes were glittering. "I was wondering if we could talk," Ron said cautiously.

Adriana smoothed out the wrinkles in her simple yellow dress and stared at him. "Harry told me he wants to see to me," she replied, on odd expression on her face. "So, no, we can't talk." She flipped her jet black hair over her shoulder haughtily.

"Well, alright." He swallowed, beginning to feel nervous. To Plan B, then.

Grimmauld Place was dimly lit tonight; he could barely make out her features as she turned away from him and ascended the stairs without another word to him.

Hermione and Ginny threw off Harry's Invisibility Cloak and he looked at them, trying not to fidget. "Sorry," he began.

Hermione shook her head. "It's fine. It's better this way...Upstairs is our proof," she said, glancing at Ginny, who nodded. "We'll know for sure once we see them together."

They put the cloak around themselves and began their clumsy, stumbling journey up the stairs; none truly believing that Harry could do such a thing, could even have feelings for her that way. But their hearts beat with dread, and they when they reached the Harry's door, none made the move to enter.

"This is silly," Hermione hissed. "One of them will notice the door opening."

Ron placed his ear on the door and listened intently, wishing his heart would stop pounding. "It sounds like Harry's saying something from the bathroom, the sink is running, he's probably washing his face..."

Ginny suddenly lurched forward and grabbed the handle. "Perfect, he won't here us coming!"

"Wait, we don't know where _she_ is-"

But she turned the handle and pulled them in, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Adriana barely noticed the noise; she held a small goblet in her hand and was sipping it, staring at Harry, who was, as Ron had said, washing up.

The trio made their way to the closet, thanking Merlin it was open; and they pulled the door shut, as quickly as they dared.

Adriana didn't hear it shut; she was still staring at her brother, her goblet empty. "You never did tell me what happened," she called, as Harry shut the spicket off and dried his face. The three in the closet stared at them through the slats in the door, packed together uncomfortably, holding their breaths.

The Boy Who Lived turned from his reflection to her with a sad smile. "Maybe I don't want you to know," he said, striding toward her. His shirt was open and hair mussed; he took the goblet from her loose grip and set it on the table next to the bed. "Maybe you'll hate me if I tell you."

He remained standing in front of her; she looked up at him and took his hand in hers. "I could never hate you, she whispered. "Tell me."

He sighed and shook his head. "If I tell you...It will make it more real. And I don't want to burden you with the knowledge." He turned from her and sat himself at the small table a few feet from the bed. "I need a drink."

"You've had enough to drink." She walked over to him and place her hand on his shoulder. "Tell me what happened."

Harry looked up at her, and held out his arms; she bent down to him, looking sad.

They kissed tenderly; and then several things happened at once.

Ginny and Hermione gasped.

And Ron burst out ot the closet, dove at Harry, and punched him in the face as hard as he could.

Harry was dimly aware that his nose had been broken as Ginny and Hermione left the closet, looking horrified. And then Ron hit him again. And again.

Adriana screamed, grabbed her wand, and cried out the first spell that came to mind; Ron let out a yell of pain and clutched his face, blood pouring from between his fingers. Harry shoved him off and kicked him brutally, delighting in the dull crunch the toe of his boot elicited. Ginny and Hermione had their wands out, and Harry knew, suddenly, that he could take them both; but he could not take the Order members that were thundering up the stairs.

He glanced around, and grabbed Adriana's wrist, heart pounding. He had the potion, he had his wand, he had her. "Come on!"

They were gone with a loud crack, missing Ron's dire words.

"_I'll kill him_," the young Weasley hissed viciously, spitting out blood as Remus and the others entered the room, shocked. "_I'll fucking kill him_."

**End Chapter. **

Sorry it took so long to update. I should have the next chapter done in a week or so. Please review!


	16. Happiness in Slavery

-1

**Chapter 16 Happiness in Slavery **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Still. **

**A/N- Sorry it took me so long to update. I got a bit side-tracked with Give Me A Reason. Thank you sooo much to everyone who reviewed!**

"You fucking idiot!" he slapped Harry in the face angrily, ignoring the boy's grunt of pain and the blood pouring out of his nose. "You damned fucking child, you've ruined everything!"

They were in Malcolm's apartment; The Boy Who Lived could think of nowhere else to go. Winters made as if to slap Harry again, but then thought better of it and told him to sit down sharply. "And don't you _dare_ get any of your filthy blood on my couch!"

Harry gritted his teeth wiped his face with his sleeve, attempting the staunch the blood flow unsuccessfully. _I'll get Ron for this,_ he thought venomously. _He'll pay for what he did to me. _He glared at Malcolm through matted hair and blood. "It's not my fault," he spat out. "How the hell was I supposed to know they'd be hiding in my fucking closet?" He snorted, feeling the blood trickle down his throat unpleasantly, and resisted the urge to gag as Winters spoke.

"Did I not tell you to be careful? Did I NOT TELL YOU THAT THE ORDER NEEDED TO _TRUST_ YOU?" He gnashed his teeth together, his rage spilling from him. "YOU'VE RUINED MY-" he stopped suddenly, looking thoughtful. "Wait..." his agile mind began to way the possibilities of the new situation. "Wait. Perhaps...Harry. Get your sister down here. And for heaven's sake, fix your nose before you ruin the carpet, will you?"

Harry muttered something under his breath.

"Excuse me?"

"I _said,_ I don't know _how." _

Malcolm shook his head disgustedly. "Come here then, doesn't know how to fix a broken nose, Jesus." He pointed his wand at Harry's face and whispered the spell.

Harry touched his unbroken nose. "Thank you," he said grudgingly.

Malcolm waved his hand dismissively. "Just get her down here. Now."

"You're not going to...No way, Malcolm, I'm not going to let you use her like that!"

"Why not? _You_ use her. Voldemort used her. I might as well join the club, eh?"

Harry opened his mouth, eyes blazing, and Winters rolled his eyes. "Just shut up and get her. I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. _Now go_."

The young wizard's jaw tightened and he turned on his heel and made his way up the long winding stairs, leaving Malcolm with his thoughts.

Before this, the boy had demonstrated beautifully how stupid, gullible, and easily manipulated he was. Now things were getting difficult. Now _he _was getting difficult. He sighed and rubbed his temples tiredly. "Calm down, Malcolm," he told himself softly. "You can still salvage something out of this." As long as Harry was still giving the girl the potion, he still had him wrapped around his little finger. And the girl would prove useful, at any rate.

She could be the spy in place of her brother. She would be perfect, everyone perceived her as a victim, they would suspect nothing...but that Weasley boy, Donald, Harold, whatever...he needed to be taken care of. He was a liability.

The entire Weasley family was a liability, in fact.

He strode over to the table and lifted a glass of firewhiskey to his lips, plotting. The family was the backbone of the Order, and he had left them untouched for far to long. Harry will take care of them, every last one of them, he decided. The boy needed to be punished for his reckless stupidity, anyway.

What was taking him so long with the girl?

* * *

Remus could not believe what they were telling him.

Hermione and Ginny were obviously near tears; Ron had an expression of grim determination on his freckled face.

"So, Harry left? Just left, with Adriana? Before cursing you, Ron?"

Ron nodded, glancing at his companions with an odd look in his eyes. "Yes, after I tried to stop him. I told him the Order needed him, that he couldn't just leave us, and that Adriana deserved more than a life on the run. I told him he was a coward, for running away." He shrugged, looking down. "Then he got mad and cursed me. End of story." He swallowed and did not look up.

Remus frowned. Their story made no sense… Harry had just come back into the fold, and now he was gone? He studied the three teens before him speculatively, wondering just how much they were leaving out.

Why would they lie?

What on earth could they possibly be hiding?

He visualized the fight, Harry grabbing Adriana, and Dispapparating. He felt a sudden rush of pity for the poor girl; she was so devoted to him, to her big brother, but she had been through quite enough already, and now Harry had dragged her Merlin knows where.

He shook his head. "You'll forgive me for being a bit skeptical, Ron. I simply cannot accept the fact that Harry dropped everything and left. That's not like him. He's better than that."

Ron snorted derisively at this comment and Hermione shot a warning glance at him, and Ginny's green eyes filled with tears.

Remus missed none of this, and pressed on. "Tell me the truth, you three. What _really _happened?"

* * *

Her skin was so soft; it reminded him of the way a flower petal felt under gentle fingertips, smooth and clean, faintly fragrant. He loved her, and the love swelled in his chest, threatening to smother him.

_I have sacrificed everything for you, _he told her silently.

Her lips turned up in a small smile as she slept, as Harry stared at her prone form. He reached out to her, running his fingers through her raven hair, removing a strand from her serene face, and sighed.

It was not fair for her, was it, this slavery.

For one wild moment, time seemed to stand still as he contemplated a sudden thought: run away with her, stop giving her the potion.

Let her leave, if she wills it.

He shook this off quickly; she would abandon him, he knew; and he could not live without her, of this he was certain.

But he could not allow Malcolm to go through with his plan- Adriana was a pawn for the powerful no longer. She was _his, _his, and no one else's; but what could he do? The minister only gave him drops of the potion, no more, effectively enslaving them, both Harry and Adriana, to him. He knew he could kill the man, knew he was a capable of such an act, knew it would be easy. And afterwards…?

The potion would wear off, and she would run from him, hurt and tears in her sea foam eyes.

And perhaps something else, something worse.

He sighed dejectedly, and shook her arm gently. "Wake up," he whispered tenderly, "Wake up, love."

She stirred, opened her eyes, and stared up at him, uncomprehending. "Harry? Where are we?"

He smiled sadly. "The minister's, darling."

She sat up slowly, memories of the previous hours slowly trickling back into her memory. "Oh," was all she said. She smoothed her dress quickly, ran her fingers through her hair. "What does he want?"

"Why don't we go find out."

* * *

He knew Lupin was suspicious of him, but they had all stuck to their story like glue; he had eventually accepted their lies, and left them, for a time, to their own devices. Ron smiled grimly. Harry was going to pay.

He was going to find him, and then he would pay.

There was very little time; ignoring Ginny and Hermione's protests, he began to collect the necessary supplies.

His wand.

A potion he had stolen, quivering from terror born of fear of discovery; Snape would murder him if he knew.

Hermione touched his shoulder. He half-turned to her, feeling his heart pound in his ears.

"What are you going to do?" she whispered. She looked so frightened, standing there, clutching Ginny's hand. He almost felt sorry.

"I'm going to track him down, make him take this potion, and then I'll need your help."

She raised her eyebrows. "_My _help? Whatever for?"

He smirked darkly. "You can contact Rita Skeeter for me."

* * *

Malcolm outlined his plan to the two raven haired teens, enthusiastic, full of ambitious hope.

He was completely unaware of the fourth person in the room.

Voldemort smiled lovingly to himself in the darkness, twirling his wand in long, tapered fingers.

In a moment he would step out of his hiding place, and the room would descend into chaos.

**End Chapter. **

**A/N- Heehee. I had a lot of fun with this one. Please review!**


	17. Come Back

**Come Back**

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

**A/n- This is short. Sorry!**

Everything had become a haze, since that strange day she could barely remember. That day he had given her her most precious possession; her ring. How she loved to run her index finger over the two intertwined snakes when he wasn't there, believing he could somehow sense how much she missed him.

It was dark and lonely when he wasn't near her; it was as if a huge hole opened in her chest when he was gone, and she bled freely in his absence.

She could barely breath, could barely _think, _in the darkness; and something inside of her told her it wasn't right, that no one should feel this way.

She shoved these thoughts aside, however, before she could dwell on them for too long.

And then he would come back to her, and everything was illuminated. She would kiss him, wrap her slender arms around him, finally complete, finally happy.

She loved it when, in the quietness of their bed, he held her to him, and she could rest her head on his smooth chest, and listen to his heart beat.

She loved him, loved him so much it felt like her body would implode one day, and her stomach clenched when she thought of him.

That was why she sat quietly, her fingers intertwined with his, listening to the awful man tell them his plans.

She hated Malcolm Winters with all her being, and often fantasized about clawing his sapphire eyes out whenever he was near. She couldn't explain her loathing, not to herself, and not to Harry.

Initially, she had thought the man charming, handsome…

And then she felt it, and was scared for him, for her Harry.

She felt that…_sourness, _in Winters, that strange…_blackness _in him, could somehow sense his ill intent. She could see, however hazily, that he was manipulating her brother.

And now, she thought sadly, it was too late, that the hold he had over them, whatever it was, was too strong; they would never escape, not until they had outgrown their usefulness.

She suddenly felt tired, and leaned her head on Harry's firm shoulder. His grip on her hand tightened, and she closed her eyes, willing Winters to go away, to crawl back under the rock he had come from.

"Malcolm, you didn't tell me you had houseguests."

That voice.

Her eyes flew open, her heartbeat accelerated.

Harry leapt up in front of her, and she was paralyzed.

_Not that voice. _

She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came; Malcolm screamed, but she could not see him; Harry yelled, and she realized he had his wand out.

She could see a glimpse of _him, _could see the pale, greenish skin of his translucent hands, could here his laughing voice.

That voice.

Harry yelled again, and she saw a flash of green.

Malcolm hit the floor, and then Harry was on the floor, roaring in agony; she remained frozen, memories washing over her.

Her wand flew out of her pocket and into _his _hands, and Harry was slid magically to the side as he approached her.

She stared down at Harry resolutely.

_This is not happening. _

_He is not here. _

"Look at me," he whispered.

He was in front of her now, and she felt a familiar chill.

"Look at me," he hissed again, and this time she felt him take her face into his cold hands, and heard Harry yell something distantly. She stared up, unwillingly, into crimson eyes, and felt his words echo throughout her body.

"Didn't I always tell you I would come back, my love?"

Her lips parted; he smiled; and then everything went black.

**End Chapter. **

**A/N- I'm sorry about the incredibly short length. I really wanted to do something from Adriana's POV, and hey, I already updated a couple of days ago, and it just ended up being this length. **

**Anyway, next chapter will be normal promise, with fun new Dark Lord interaction. Please review and tell me what you think! **


	18. Darling Girl

**Darling Girl **

"Where is she?" he demanded. His heart pounded in his ears, his head ached, his limbs were weary with exhaustion and dread. And she could be gone. "Tell me!"

Voldemort's lips quirked into a semblance of a smile. "You are foolish," he whispered slowly. "If I wanted her dead, I would have killed her when I first had her in my grasp."

Now," he hissed, holding out his arm, indicating the chair before him, "sit."

Harry remained silent, motionless,, he could only think of her, and of the Dark Lord's hands surrounding her wide-eyed face.

"Harry," he hissed, "It was not a request. Now, sit. Or I will be forced to use violence, and you know how I despise that. Sit, and I will explain."

"Explain? What are you going to explain? Why you took her, why you tortured her, why you _raped_ her?"

Voldemort blinked.

And then, he laughed.

Shock coursed through Harry's veins.

Laughter, long and loud, echoed off the walls; Voldemort's gaunt face was split into a ghastly smile.

"Raped? You little fool, I never _raped_ her. I differ from you… Incest, I'm afraid, is your specialty, not mine." he chuckled coldly and glanced cuttingly at Harry, his crimson eyes alight with amusement. "Is that what she told you?"

Harry shook his head, running his tongue over dry lips. "No, I…" he swallowed. "She never told me what happened, and I never asked."

"Ah, my affection for you, dear boy, grows and grows with each passing moment. I see I will have to explain further than I had intended… Surely she told you who she is, to me, but, perhaps I made her forget…"

"What she is to you?" _Incest is your specialty, not mine. _

"Of course. She is…why, she is my daughter, my own flesh and blood. That is why I am so…._attached _to her, if you will." A triumphant smile escaped him. "Ah. Finally quiet, I see."

Harry shook his head, his mind spinning, ice running through his body. "Lies."

A shrug, casual and smug at the same time. "I suppose people would think it a lie if it came out the great Golden Boy of our time raped his own baby sister, but you and I know differently, don't we."

Harry shook his head again, desperately this time, willing it not to be true. "Where is she?" he asked quietly, trying to contain the hysteria that was bubbling up at the Dark Lord's words.

Voldemort sniffed noncommittally. "She is in another room, working off the effects of the potion you so lovingly administered to her."

"_What? W-" _

"Please. Surely you did not think I did not _know._ The whole affair was my idea."

"Your idea."

"Winters, for all his faults, of which there were many, was observant. And, of course, our mental bond is as strong as ever, despite your pathetic attempts at Occlumency. In any case," he continued smoothly, "the next few hours should be very painful for our poor Adriana." He glanced at Harry's face and smiled thinly. "Oh, that's right, I never did tell dear Malcolm about the withdrawal effects, did I? Darling girl, how she has suffered so. Yes, once the potion begins to wear off, the effects are absolutely excruciating. Worse than the Torture Curse, trust me I have seen its effects up close. I suspect we'll be able to hear her screams in a few moments."

Harry sank into the chair suddenly, his knees giving out before he could register what was happening.

"I promised her to him, you know. He lusted after you, of course, but I'm afraid that he was well aware of the fact you had eyes only for her. I suspect that he wanted to give you the potion, but he knew he would be punished for it. That is why I killed him, for her. And why you killed the Longbottoms, isn't that right?"

"Shut up." He could still see their empty eyes, could still picture the way Neville's face would look when he found out.

"Very well." He grinned suddenly, savagely, and Harry hated him. "Ironic, isn't it, that you got Lily's eyes and she didn't. I suppose she inherited mine."

Before Harry could answer, he swept out of the room, the smile still playing on his translucent lips.

A moment later the screams started.

* * *

_Her red hair, her green eyes. _

_He wanted her. _

_And so, consequently, he would have her. _

_He knew his handsome good looks had faded, warped and deformed by the magic. Still, several Death Eaters seemed to take no notice. For instance, Bellatrix…always willing to share his bed. But, there was something about Lily Potter… Her innocence, perhaps, those big eyes that stared like laser beams to the soul. He could easily understand Snape's infatuation with her, despite the fact that she was a Mudblood. Every breed had an exception, he supposed. _

_He smiled to himself in the cool darkness of his quarters, thinking. He could always just take her, force her…unwilling partners were always exciting. They always make the blood burn like nothing else. However, that plan lacked….finesse. There was always the Polyjuice Potion, he supposed, but he wanted her to look into his eyes, not her husbands. _

_A love potion, perhaps. _

_The more he thought about it, the more he liked it. He would put a memory charm on her, afterward, but how ashamed would she be, how could she ever face Potter again?_

_It was delicious. _

_She would never be able to look James in the eye again, not without feeling _his _hands on her body, not without remembering _his _bed. _

_But, what potion to use? _

'_Severus,' he called mentally._

'_Come to me.'_

_

* * *

_

There was only pain.

Everything was warped, somehow, as she screamed, warped and white and wrong and the pain and the agony were there, knives pierced every inch of her skin and she screamed as loud as she could, and she was briefly aware of the man in the room.

She clutched at his hands, sweat running down her forehead, her pupils dilated, wondering if she was going to die, wishing she would die.

Just let me die.

"Sshh," he whispered, mopping her brow.

She dragged her fingernails down his arm, biting her tongue until blood flowed.

He wiped the blood from her lips, whispering nothings to her, and she screamed and screamed.

He wrapped his arms around her, and rocked her back and forth, and she loved him, distantly, her pain intensifying.

"Ssshh," Severus Snape whispered. "Sshh, my darling girl."

"I'm here."

**End Chapter**

**A/N- Poor Harry. Nothing goes right for him, does it? Please Review! I've already started the next chapter, so there should be a shorter wait, hopefully. **


	19. Story of a Lifetime

**Chapter 19- Story of a Lifetime **

"Harry…Harry, wake up."

He shifted sleepily in his bed, wondering what time it was.

"Come on, darling, get up."

He smiled to himself, blindly reaching out to the girl whispering to him. "Adriana…I had the strangest dream…" He opened his eyes and stared up at her, grinning unabatedly.

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Really."

He stretched casually, feeling the tension in his shoulders melt away. "Yeah." He grabbed her waist and clutched her to him on the bed, inhaling her lavender scent. She moved slightly and wrapped her arms around his neck with a sigh, resting her head calmly on his naked chest. "So, what have you been up to?" he whispered.

She paused, considering. "Convulsing, actually," she replied quietly, an odd, sad smile on her face.

He blinked down at her, not quite comprehending her words. "What?"

She looked at him sadly as he ran his fingers through her smooth dark hair. "You know, since I wasn't given another dose of the potion." She kissed the spot above his heart gently, as if to comfort him.

It felt as if he had been punched in the gut. "E-excuse me?"

"It wasn't a dream, Harry. We're at the Malfoy Manor. The Dark Lord is downstairs, along with Professor Snape and Wormtail. Malcolm is dead. And I know what you did to me."

She remained motionless, her hands caressing his neck reflectively. "It's funny, isn't it…?"

He stared at the ceiling, the memory of the last twenty four hours washing over him like a cold bath, her touch simultaneously arousing and shaming him. "What's that, luv?"

She shook her head and sat up, looking down at him distantly. "Nothing. I have to go…he'll be back upstairs, in a little while, and I don't want him to see me with you." She made as if to get off the bed and he clutched at her hand, marveling at her pale skin, her green eyes, her beauty, and the fact that she was lost to him. For good.

"Adriana, please, I can explain, I wasn't going to do it forever…Please…" Her palm was warm against his and he tightened his grip. "Please…"

Her sea foam eyes were empty as she pulled away. "No. I can't- I can't talk about this. Not now."

"Adriana, please, just listen to me-" he tried desperately, reaching out for her again.

She smoothed out the folds of the pale pink dress she was wearing, eyes downcast. "Just stop it, Harry," she evenly.

He shuddered suddenly. "You- do you- do you hate me, now?"

She stared at him, tears suddenly running down her face. "Why would I hate you? Because you fed me a love potion and took away my free will? Because you threw away your life, and mine, for, for this?" She made an angry motion with her hand. "Indeed, why?"

"I-"

"He asked me, you know, if I wanted you dead. Voldemort, I mean. Snape just wants to kill you. Do you know what I said?"

He shook his head numbly.

She wiped a hand across her tear stained face impatiently. "I told him no. I told him that if you died, I would die right along with you. I told him that I still love you, despite what you did, love you with all of my heart. And then he told me what I was."

He nodded in understanding. "His daughter."

She smiled bitterly. "Yes. Dumbledore knew, can you believe that? That's why we were separated, when we were young. I guess he thought that I would corrupt you, or something. I don't know. I suppose we'll never know, now. Stupid old man, he deserved what he got, and more." She folded her arms protectively against her chest as he rose from the unfamiliar bed. She took a step back, avoiding his eyes.

He reached out and touched her shoulder gently. "I'm sorry," was all he could say. "About everything."

Adriana looked up at him, shaking her head, her lower lip trembling. "I-"

He pulled her into a hug instinctively, and she burst into tears, wrapping her thin arms around his waist. No matter what, he thought, I am still her brother. I still need to protect her.

I still need her to be happy.

She buried her face in his chest as he held her. Full circle, he thought. Except this time, it's my fault.

"Well, isn't this touching. Brother and sister, together again. Isn't it, Severus? Why, I think I may cry."

Harry looked up to see the Dark Lord smirking near the door, his Potion's Master close behind.

"Touching isn't exactly the word I would use, my lord," Snape said quietly, frowning at Adriana, concern etched on his features.

She sniffled and detached herself from Harry's arms, looking ashamed. "I'm sorry, my lord, I was just-"

The Dark Lord waved his hand casually. "Perfectly acceptable, my little lamb. As my child, you have full run of the Manor. Of course, we will have to start your training soon." He smiled at her lovingly. Harry shuddered again.

She nodded and gave a little bow. "Of course, my lord."

He raised an eyebrow while smoothing his black suit. "None of this 'my lord' business, darling. It is far too formal for my taste."

She glanced at Snape and then back at him. "Of course…Father." He nodded, satisfied.

"Now," the Dark Lord whispered slowly, turning to Harry with a smug gleam in his crimson eyes. "I suppose you and I need to have a little talk." He smiled widely, revealing gleaming white teeth.

Adriana's sea foam eyes filled with dread and she opened her mouth to speak, but Snape touched her shoulder gently. She sighed and looked up at him as he led her out of the room by her hand, the frown still playing on his sallow features. Harry watched them leave, observing their apparent comfort with each other with a faint tinge of jealousy. He caught Snape's eye, fully intending to stare him down.

It felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach.

The Potions Master glared at him with so much hate, loathing, _malice_; Harry's blood ran cold.

'_This isn't over,' _the look said.

'_Not by a long shot.' _

* * *

"I don't have any money, anymore, you know," Rita Skeeter complained, her voice shrilly. "Not since Little Miss Goody Two Shoes took away _my job." _

Ron nodded understandingly. "And she's sorry about that. What if I told you I had a story…a story the likes of which had never been told?"

Skeeter raised an immaculate blond eyebrow, red lips upturning into a predatory smile. "I think I would want to hear it." She took the Quick Quotes Quill out of her bag reverently. "Almost there…"

Ron tapped the table top impatiently as she fished out parchment. Harry was going to pay. Adriana would be rescued.

"Alright, give me every sordid detail about…this story. Am I right in assuming that it has to do with young Potter?"

He smirked. He bent forward, a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes. "You are. Make sure to listen closely, now…"

The Quick Quotes Quill wrote while Skeeter gasped and then laughed.

Harry would pay.

**End Chapter. **

**A/N- Ah, Ron. Whatever will be done about him? Please review! **


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